


Always Coming Back to You

by yurishika



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurishika/pseuds/yurishika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their paths cross again in 2023, when they both lead different lives, Yuzuru a medical school intern and Michael an assistant coach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_Yuzuru_ **

Coming back to consciousness came with a dull throbbing in his head, made worse by the ringing of the alarm on his cell phone. He opened his eyes, and his hands immediately reached for the darned gadget. The screen read 5:30a.m., though it felt like he hadn’t slept a wink. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but he remembered, with a groan, his schedule for that day.

He realized he had fallen asleep on his desk again. His textbook was open, the coffee in the mug beside it cold. The date today in the desk calendar had “Pediatrics Department – Last Day of Internship” scribbled in large, red letters. He wanted to call in sick and take a day off, but he knew this would be the end of the first half of the final stretch for the school year. After clearing his mind of distractions, he finally got up, neck stiff but otherwise alright.

A quick shower and a quick change of clothes fifteen minutes later, and he was out of the dormitory. The hallways were empty, his footsteps loud on the floor. Either the people were still asleep were already in the hospital. He had forty-five more minutes before he was expected to be in the hospital, so he decided to take his quick detour to his usual breakfast place.

His favorite breakfast place was in a wooden cabin-like house, looking out-of-place amidst high-rise apartment complexes. When he arrived, he could see the owner—who everyone fondly calls Old Man—pulling up the shutters. Yuzuru could smell the freshly made miso soup wafting towards his direction, and he felt much more awake. “Good morning, Old Man!” he hollered as he approached.

Old Man brightened up and waved at him. “Good morning, Yuzuru! Getting the usual?”

“Yes, please.” Yuzuru slid towards the seat by the kitchen, where he could get a glimpse of Old Man’s daughter busy stirring egg yolks in newly cooked rice.

“Busy day today?” Old Man asked as he took the bowl of tamago kake gohan and a cup of tea from the kitchen and set it in front of Yuzuru.

“Not really.” Yuzuru said his thanks before digging in, almost burning his tongue in the process. “It’s the last day of my internship before final exams.”

“Just a few weeks more. Good luck!” Old Man must have felt the upcoming busyness in the next few hours that he plopped an extra serving of nabe in front of Yuzuru.

Soon, people started trickling in the restaurant, most of whom Yuzuru could recognize by face. There were some of his classmates, and a few of his professors. The occasional salaryman would come in, either on the way to or coming home from work. Yuzuru would watch everyone around him as he ate, thinking of stories for everyone as they came along.

He was almost done with his breakfast when two newcomers came—a Caucasian couple in their thirties, backpacks on their backs. The man spoke to Old Man in stilted Japanese, his arms making gestured in an attempt to make the conversation easier. Old Man must have understood what the tourist meant because he and the female tourist were ushered in an empty table and each served rice, grilled fish, and a bowl of miso soup.

His gaze met the female tourist’s, and her eyes widened. He felt something unpleasant settle in his stomach, and he knew this wasn’t a good feeling. He had felt this before, a long time ago, and his instincts told him that he should hurry up to leave …

Before he could even finish what was left of his tamago kake gohan, the female tourist was already hovering on his table. She had a journal and a pen in hand, and she looked visibly nervous. “Y-Yuzuru Hanyu?”

His name sounded different in her lips, but strangely he was used to it. “Yes,” he said, in English. He had learned enough to speak and understand a bit.

She visibly relaxed, and started speaking in English, too. “I’m a huge fan! I watched you in Barcelona—the second time in Barcelona—when you broke the world record!”

That was in 2015, a long time ago, but Yuzuru could remember it like it were yesterday—the adrenaline, the tears of relief in the kiss and cry, the overwhelming joy as he stood atop the podium, the gratefulness to thousands of fans who flew all the way to Barcelona to support him.

“Can … I have your autograph?” she asked, brave enough to shove her journal and pen in front of him.

“Sure.” Yuzuru frowned as he signed. His handwriting, he realized, had gone worse than the last time he remembered. He was always in a hurry to scribble down notes and terms incomprehensible to him unless he read about it the second time around. But the female tourist happily accepted it, so he didn’t worry about it.

She took a quick look at the autograph, and her expression changed to confusion. “How come you don’t skate anymore?” she asked.

It had been five years, he realized, since he took to the ice for the world to see, for the last time. Since then, he gave up his skates for good. He had turned down any invitation to skate in an ice show, even those invitational competitions. Eventually, the world had forgotten him, and Yuzuru had almost moved on, too.

But he couldn’t find the right words to tell her.

She didn’t seem to wait for an answer, because she smiled and bowed before returning to her table.

Yuzuru turned back to his breakfast when he checked his watch and realized he was already late.

 

 

 

 

His shoes clunked loudly against the floor as he sprinted to the pediatrics department, six minutes beyond his assigned time. Fujikawa was already sitting by the waiting area, looking as his watch. Yuzuru bowed in apology as he raced for the biometrics machine. “Sorry, I’m late!” he said. “Something came up.”

“No problem. It’s not like you’re always late.” Fujikawa stood up and waved a hand. “See you next week, Hanyu!”

His superior, Dr. Hayashi, was in the doctors’ lounge, having coffee. “This is your first late for the semester,” he remarked with an amused grin as Yuzuru rushed to put his things inside his spare cubbyhole. “And on the last day of the internship, too.”

Yuzuru bowed as soon as his hands were free. “Something came up,” he said. “I’m sorry, sensei.”

“As long as this doesn’t become a habit next year. Now go do your morning routine.”

“Yes, sensei.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his clipboard before making his way out. Fujikawa had scribbled about some changes on patients that happened overnight, which weren’t much, save for one patient in Room 451. _Hibiki’s room_.

The moment he opened the door to Room 451, he heard the delighted squeals of “Yuzuru-niichan!” Hibiki’s bed was by the window, and he was sporting a toothy grin. There were newly picked flowers in the vase on his end desk, which was also full of “Get well soon” cards.

“Good morning, Hibiki!” he greeted as he ruffled the boy’s hair. He picked one card and grinned as he read. “Waiting for your return.” He chuckled at the hearts drawn all over the card. “I see you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend! I barely even know her!”

Hibiki’s mother chuckled. “Miyako-chan got charmed by Hibiki at school. Do you know how, Hanyu-san?” When he shook his head, he laughed. “He did the lunge! The one you did in Sochi?”

“… Oh.” Yuzuru felt his face heat up, but he settled for laughing nervously. “I guess I helped Hibiki get the girl?”

“I wasn’t trying to impress her, I swear!” Hibiki pouted and crossed his arms. “Yuzuru-niichan, aren’t we going to do our morning routine?”

Yuzuru sighed in relief as he readied his stethoscope.

Every day is a routine, but something new would come up every now and then. Hibiki’s vitals were normal, which meant he could be discharged today. The other kids in the ward either had to be examined for sprained ankles or stomach problems. Their smiles at the sight of Yuzuru, though, were something he’d leave out of his reports but something he’d keep in his memories.

It was Friday, so it was time for their last Intern Morning Report. He and the other interns would meet in the conference room, and they would take turns coming up with a diagnosis for a patient an assigned intern would present.

For this Friday, it was his turn. He took command of the senior resident’s laptop and flashed a photo of a patient, as well as his vital stats. “Kou Akutagawa, 10 years old,” he said. “He came to the hospital last week, complaining of wheezing and shortness of breath during a soccer match. He had a four-day history of upper respiratory tract symptoms, which are rhinorrhea and cough. He was also diagnosed with asthma when he was eight—his mother also has a history of asthma—though he was not required any medications.”

He clicked his remote to show the next slide. “During the soccer match, Mrs. Akutagawa gave Kou two puffs of salbutamol, which did not improve his shortness of breath. She waited for two more minutes and tried giving him two more puffs, but his condition worsened. They immediately went to the ER. He has no known allergies and takes no medications. No vomiting or skin rash.”

“A viral infection, maybe?” one intern, Fukuzawa, guessed.

“I presume it would be asthma exacerbation, considering the history,” Yuzuru said. “A viral infection is possible, too, but it wouldn’t build up so quickly. It will depend after we examine the patient for a few more days.”

“We should check for a silent chest,” another intern, Hasegawa, said. “Probably anxiety, irregular breathing, exhaustion, just to make sure he won’t be in danger of respiratory compromise. Or worse.”

Or worse, was something Yuzuru didn’t want to consider. He mentally shook his head. His focus should be on helping Kou. “It’s important we monitor the heart rate, though he did not have any history of ICU or prior hospital admissions so we can temporarily dismiss severe asthma.”

His senior resident Dr. Hideaki nodded, then looked around the room. “So? Suggested first-line treatment?”

Everyone around the room agreed on inhaled cortiscosteroids and salbutamol, with continuous monitoring of heart rate. Hasegawa patted him on the back as they all got up to leave. Yuzuru was getting ready, when Dr. Hideaki gestured for him to stay for a bit.

“You’re doing a wonderful job with the kids, Hanyu,” Dr. Hideaki told him. He had that sage smile on his face; Yuzuru was always reminded of Hiroshi Nagakubo. “I’m guessing pediatrics will be your main line of practice after you pass the licensure exam?”

“That’s still two years away.” Yuzuru chuckled. “I still have to go through many departments, but pediatrics is interesting. Though I’m interested in sports medicine, too …”

“Of course.” Dr. Hideaki nodded as if he knew; everyone in the hospital probably knew. “Never close your options. But if you need a referral, you know where to find me.”

Yuzuru nodded.

Dr. Hideaki looked at his watch. “Look, you did a great job today, and I understand you have final exams at the end of the month?” Yuzuru nodded again. “Pack your things. Your day ends today.”

“E-Excuse me?” Yuzuru blinked. He was expected to finish his day at five o’clock later. “Hideaki-sensei, you don’t have to.”

The doctor chuckled. “It’s all right. I reward my best interns a half-day off before they take their final exams. Go take a rest and use your remaining days to study. I insist.”

It was close to noon. Usually, he’d grab lunch in the hospital cafeteria. He remembered wanting to eat in this nearby ramen shop and … the rink. How long has it been since he has last been in a rink? The thought put a smile to his face, and he bowed his thanks and left.

Typically he would spend a long time in the ramen shop, taking his time to eat and people-watch. He rarely has the luxury of sitting back to eat, and it had been a while since he last people-watched which didn’t involve looking for symptoms. The excitement of returning to the rink—a place he had called home—was stronger. He almost burned his tongue in a hurry, but he skipped as he made his way out and to the apartment to change and grab his skates, then to the rink.

The nearest rink near his apartment and the university hospital was in Jingu Gaien. The last time Yuzuru had been there was the beginning of his fifth year, before he started his internship. Since then, it was impossible to find free time to skate. He almost chuckled to himself. And to think, back then, it was impossible to find free time outside the rink …

When he entered, the lobby was just like he recalled it to be almost a year ago. The cream paint on the walls were slightly peeling, the shelf by the receptionist’s desks full of photos and trophies and medals. The front desk staff interrupted her conversation with another staff as he walked in, her face brightening up. “Hanyu-senshuu! Welcome back!”

These days, being called “senshuu” felt new. He wasn’t an athlete anymore, after all. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“No, no worries! We understand you’re in your internship. Don’t worry! Our doors are always open for you! Will it be an hour in the rink, or—?”

“An hour, I guess. I still have to go home and study for finals.”

“All right! Please come in! You know where the locker rooms are.”

Yuzuru arrived in the locker room, only to be bombarded by squeals of children. “Yuzuru Hanyu!” they all squealed, hastily taking off the skates they were wearing and shoving it and markers in front of him. He laughed as he signed and talked to the kids and their starstruck mothers.

He felt like he lived two different lives. In the hospital, he was one of the many interns hoping to graduate medical school. In the rink, he was Yuzuru Hanyu, one of the greatest figure skaters to grace the sport.

By the time the skaters and the mothers disappeared in the locker room, half an hour had passed, and he still hadn’t put on his skates.

He took a deep breath as he stepped out of the rink, the chill all over his body taking him back to the past. He bent down and touched the ice, an old habit that will never die. “I’m back,” he whispered before he let his blades touch the ice. The thrill was back, electrifying every part of his body.

“Yuzuru!” He whipped his head to the other side of the rink to see Coach Oyama. He and Coach Oyama had never talked to each other, not even in Nationals, until he found himself in the rink in his first year of medical school, in need of a rink to release stress after a hard day of studying. Now, he was the closest thing to a coach.

“Hello, Oyama-sensei!” A grin split to his face as he skated toward the coach’s direction. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it!” Coach Oyama waved a hand dismissively. “I’m old, but I’m managing just fine. I’m having an assistant coach coming over today, so I can fly with my kids for Junior Worlds.”

“That’s great.” It was hard to believe Coach Oyama was old when he had the same gait as the younger coaches have. “When is he coming over?”

“Should be around this time.” Coach Oyama looked at his watch and nodded. “I need to wait for him in the lobby. In the meantime, can you take care of the kids for me?”

“Sure!” He looked over his shoulder, to find some of the kids in the rink watching him with wide eyes. “Okay, students, where did you leave off with Oyama-sensei?”

Back when he was still not that busy in medical school, he would help Coach Oyama in skating lessons. He had considered coaching before until he got his acceptance letter to Keio University’s medical program, but the kids were so eager to learn after his first day in Jingu Gaien. Yuzuru remembered what it was like to be so eager the moment his blades touched the ice. Kind of what he felt right now, after months of not visiting the rink.

The kids were already starting on their jumps—they were already done learning the toe, and now it’s the salchow. They excitedly talked about the ice show they should be having by the end of the month, their guesses on who their new assistant coach will be. Yuzuru, clueless as to what to teach them, asked them to show them what they’ve learned so far. As the kids demonstrated what they’ve learned one by one, he corrected them and showed them how each element should be done. His jumps were a little smaller compared to the last time he jumped, but at least he could still do a triple.

“As expected of an Olympic champion!” one of the kids cheered. “Do it again, Hanyu-sensei!”

Yuzuru laughed and set himself up for another salchow—but what if he tried a quad? He hadn’t tried it in years, but—

He took off, four rotations, and landed on both feet before falling. He winced at the hot rush of pain in his hip as it hit the ice. He made a mental note to not try that again—he doesn’t want to die before he could even take his final exams.

But he could hear the kids cheering, and he managed a grimace as he got up. “Kids,” he announced, “never try a quad until you’ve managed to land all your triples.”

“Hanyu-sensei!” another kid piped up. “Can you do one of your routines?”

Yuzuru laughed; he still knew some of his choreography by heart, at least, bits and pieces of it. “I’ll try. It’s been a long time,” he said. “What music do you want me to skate to?”

The response was unanimous: “Seimei!”

He laughed again. “I’ll try!” He skated to the center of the rink, watched everyone skate to the sides to watch him expectantly. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the movements Shae-Lynn had taught him. Suddenly, the music played in his mind, and the movements felt fluid, as if he’s skated to Seimei all his life.

He choreo sequence—his favorite—was the easiest to do. He could hear the kids clapping as he skated, cheered when he did his Ina Bauer, up until he did his final spin. Suddenly, he was back in time, to Barcelona, and when he struck his final pose, he could still hear the crowd on their feet, cheering.

And when he looked out at the crowd, he was suddenly back in the rink, and he was locking gazes with someone familiar. Someone whose dark eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time.

His own eyes widened, and his heart stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Michael_ **

Coming back to consciousness came with a dull throbbing in his head, made worse by the ringing of the alarm on his cell phone. He opened his eyes, and his hand immediately reached for the darned gadget. The screen read 9:43a.m., though it felt like he hadn’t slept a wink. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but he remembered his schedule for the day, and he knew sleeping again was not an option. 

He stretched his legs and sat up, his feet trying to feel his slippers. Then he remembered his slippers were still in his luggage—he flopped on his bed the moment he arrived and didn’t even bother unpacking. He hadn’t changed to his pajamas, either. Totally understandable, when he arrived from the airport at one in the morning. 

A quick shower and a quick change of clothes fifteen minutes later, and he was out of the apartment. His neighbor, a housewife in her fifties, greeted him a “Good morning!” and asked a lot more questions of which Michael could understand only in context clues. The woman must have caught on his blank expression, so she tried to translate in the English she knew. Michael tried to reply with what Japanese he remembered before excusing himself to leave. 

The fridge in the apartment was still empty, so he had to make do with breakfast outside. Convenience store food will have to do for now. 7-Eleven was the nearest convenience store in his apartment, and he grabbed a pack of rice balls and poured himself a cup of coffee. The seat by the window was open, and he quickly scooted over there. The streets of Tokyo were busy, as usual, and he watched each person pass by outside. He remembered being like this with his mother, on his first trip to Japan, eating rice balls and people-watching. 

Speaking of which … He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened his Viber. His mother hadn’t sent any messages yet, but he decided to take the initiative; his mother is probably already awake, anyway. “Good morning! Having breakfast at 7-Eleven right now.” He sent it with a photo of his food. 

His mother was quick to reply. “Don’t make it a habit to eat convenience store food. Go buy groceries.” 

“Yes, Mom.” He chuckled as he sent the message. As much as he often complained about his mother fussing over him, he knew that a day without her was going to be difficult. Even if he had learned to live without his mother by his side these days. 

His phone beeped again, with another message from his mother. “Have fun on your first day. Say hi to Coach Oyama for me.” 

“I will.” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket after sending that message. He finished his breakfast before standing up and heading his way. 

His first agenda was to go to Kishi Memorial Hall, the tall, white building a ten-minute walk from his apartment. The receptionist in the lobby smiled at him and handed him a visitor’s ID in exchange for his own—his coach’s ID from back in Manila. He followed a throng of people in suits to the elevator, and he promptly pressed the button for the fourth floor. 

It wasn’t hard to find his destination—there was a large plaque beside French doors which read “Japan Skating Federation” in Japanese and English. Outside the office was a tarpaulin with pictures of young skaters with the text “World Junior Championships, March 15 to 18” above the pictures. He took a quick look at the skaters in the tarpaulin—he could recognize some of them—before entering the office. 

The receptionist looked up at him from her computer and greeted “Good morning!” to him in English. “Mr. Martinez?” 

Michael blinked. “Yes, I’m here to see President Arakawa.” 

“Yes, she was expecting you. Please have a seat while I check if she’s available.” 

Michael took a seat and grabbed the first magazine he could get his hands on. It was an IFS magazine featuring Sota Yamamoto on the front page. “Sota Yamamoto—eyes on the prize”, read the headline. He smiled, remembering how he had befriended Sota back in Pyeongchang. They both got in the Top 10 in the end. While Michael ended his competitive career after 2018, Sota had gone on to clinch the World title, and win every international competition he participated in. They haven’t been in touch since then, Sota busy with competing while Michael in completing his college degree and his coaching certification. 

The receptionist hasn’t returned yet, so he browsed through the magazine, hoping to find familiar faces. There was an article about retired skaters and what they were up to now—Javier Fernandez was the vice president of the Spanish Ice Sports Federation and is happily married to Miki Ando (he grinned as he read the snippet), Denis Ten had established Kazakhstan’s skating federation and also does coaching for the local skaters, Mao Asada now coaches in Nagoya, Maia and Alex Shibutani continue vlogging to raise funds for their foundation for skaters. 

Michael was expecting someone else on the feature, but that was as far as the article went. It was strange, to become the sport’s superstar for years then disappear into obscurity. 

It couldn’t be … 

“Mr. Martinez?” Michael looked up to see the receptionist smiling at him. “President Arakawa will see you now.” 

He stood up and followed the receptionist to another set of French doors at the end of the hallway. Beside the doors was a golden plaque with “Shizuka Arakawa – President” engraved in English and Japanese. The receptionist opened the door and announced, “President Arakawa, Mr. Michael Martinez is here.” 

Shizuka Arakawa looked up from the papers she was reading, and she brightened up when their eyes met. “Thank you,” she told the receptionist, who immediately closed the door, leaving Michael face to face with one of the skaters who he looked up to when he was still competing. She’s forty-two now, but age never crossed the Olympic champion's face. “Good morning, Michael.” 

“Good morning, President Arakawa.” Michael bowed in greeting. “Thank you for having me here.” 

“How are you?” Shizuka asked, gesturing for him to sit down. 

“I’m fine. The past years have been quite busy.” Michael backtracked his life since he retired from competitive skating. He attended college, in between taking up an ISU certification course for coaching. He had finished the certification for international coaching last year. He had done his best to try to move his country forward in the international competitive scene after his retirement, but he could only do so much. (At least Sofia’s doing a good job being his successor.) 

“Busy, huh? Well, thank you for accommodating our request on such short notice.” 

“I couldn’t say no to Oyama-sensei.” Michael smiled, remembering how he brightened up when his former coach messaged him, asking for a favor. “And besides, this will be a helpful experience for my next coaching certification.” 

“That, I can assure.” Shizuka smiled and nodded. “What time are you expected to be in the rink?” 

“After lunch.” He looked at his watch. He had at least an hour and a half more to spare. “Aside from a courtesy call, is there anything else I need to do here?” 

Shizuka shook her head. “That is all. But I would like you to drop by here at least once a week so we can talk about how your coaching is going.” 

“I will. I’ll be going now. Thank you.” Michael bowed at her again before taking his leave. 

He didn’t know how to pass time, but he decided it was better to figure out how to go to Jingu Gaien then decide what to do next. The train system never failed to confuse him, so it was better to get a head start. He took the Yamanote Line to Shinjuku Station, the train slightly packed at lunch break. Inside, he could already see the advertisements of Junior Worlds plastered all over the train handles. The competition will be in Korea; maybe he could take the time to watch … 

He mentally patted himself on the back for remembering to transfer to the Chuo-Sobu line as soon as the train arrived in Yoyogi Station. Thirty minutes later, after a quick lunch in the station, he found himself standing before the red exterior of the Meiji Jingu Gaien Rink. The last time he had paid a visit was eight years ago, when he accompanied his mother on a business trip to Japan. 

He opened the doors and immediately saw that nothing has changed. The cream paint on the walls were slightly peeling, the shelf by the receptionist’s desks full of photos and trophies and medals. The front desk staff interrupted her conversation with another staff as he walked in, her face brightening up. “Michael!” she almost screamed. “Welcome back!” 

He grinned, not even flinching as the staff rushed towards him for a hug. “Long time no see! It’s great to be back here.” When she pulled away, Michael's gaze drifted to the entrance to the rink, to see Coach Oyama walk out of it just in time. “Oyama-sensei!” 

“Michael!” Despite his old age, Coach Oyama walked with a gait that younger coaches have. “It’s good to see you again. How’s your mother?” 

“The most relaxed I’ve seen her in a while.” Michael grinned, imagining her mother somewhere in their family home, reading the stack of books she rarely had a chance to read. “And you, sensei?” 

“Very well. The kids are not giving me any headaches, but don’t give your hopes up.” He laughed heartily. “Shall we talk some more in the office?” 

“Sure!” Michael waved to the front desk staff before following Coach Oyama in his office. 

Coach Oyama’s office now had an upholstered couch, while his cabinet now had more photos. Their photo with Ryuju was still there, front and center, and Michael smiled as memories came back to him. Coach Oyama gestured at him to sit down, and Michael waited for his former coach to sort through some papers before finally speaking up. 

“How was your latest certification exam?” 

Michael beamed. “I passed Level 2. I’ll be starting Level 3 next May.” 

“Very good.” Coach Oyama’s shoulders relaxed. “As you know, I’ll be training two of the students here—Nobuo and Yuki—who are Japan’s representatives for Junior Worlds in March. In between that, I have to coach our juvenile-level skaters until they culminate their class in an ice show. Ryuju just left to continue his studies, so my hands will be very full.” 

Michael nodded in understanding. He had coached juvenile-level skaters in Manila, so this shouldn’t be difficult. The language barrier could be a problem, but he’d trained with people in different countries, and he knew this problem shouldn’t be long-term. 

“I’m not requiring you to coach today. I just need to introduce you to the kids, then you can start tomorrow … though Yuzuru arrived today, so they’re pretty preoccupied right now.” 

Michael felt like he was doused with ice-cold water at Coach Oyama’s words. Did he hear right? “Yuzuru?” he repeated. “Yuzuru Hanyu?” 

“Yes.” Coach Oyama nodded knowingly. “You look up to him, am I correct?” 

Looking up would be an understatement. Michael avoided his former coach’s gaze. “He had been out of the radar after Pyeongchang,” he said. “It’s weird to hear his name again, weirder to find out he’s back in the rink after not showing up for ice shows and anything related to figure skating.” 

“Yes, I’ve always wondered about that …” Coach Oyama remarked. “He sometimes shows up in the summer break to help with the kids. He’s in medical school, so I understand his schedule is quite busy.” 

“Medical school?” It was hard to imagine Yuzuru Hanyu doing anything else but figure skating. He figured Yuzuru would be coaching and choreographing … medical school also makes sense if he’s going for sports medicine, but it was still hard imagining Yuzuru off ice. But how would he know? Was he close enough to Yuzuru at all? 

“Sports medicine, knowing him, but no one knew why. I heard Brian Orser offered to make him his assistant coach, but obviously that didn’t push through. Maybe _you_ can ask him?” There was a mischievous glint in Coach Oyama’s eyes as he stood up. “Let’s go?” 

Michael gulped and nodded as he stood up to follow Coach Oyama out of the office. 

The rink was as lively as Michael had remembered it, with the sound of squeals and chattering mixed in between the sound of the blades. He leaned by the boards as he set his eyes on some of the kids. He’ll take the time to know their names later on, but right now, they were just like Michael when his blades touched the ice for the first time. 

And then he saw him—Yuzuru Hanyu, his idol. He was at the center of a circle of kids, all wide-eyed and excited to see a legend before them. Michael’s latest memory of Yuzuru was in Pyeongchang, and years have changed the Olympic champion. There were dark circles under his eyes, a product of sleepless nights of studying, no doubt. But one kid told a joke, and his eyes disappeared in crinkled as he threw his head back in laughter, and he knew this was the same Yuzuru Hanyu he had gotten to know. 

“I’ll try. It’s been a long time,” Yuzuru told the kids. “What music do you want me to skate to?” 

The response was unanimous: “Seimei!” Apparently the kids requested him to skate to one of his programs. 

Yuzuru laughed again. “I’ll try!” He skated to the center of the rink, while all the kids skated to the sides to watch him expectantly. He closed his eyes, and a few seconds later, he started to move, even without music. That was an eight-year-old program, but Yuzuru skated it like he had skated it all his life. 

Yuzuru skated his choreographic sequence, the most memorable part in the entire program, at least for him. It felt like an epic culmination of the program that brought everyone to their feet. Yuzuru skated with determination in his eyes, the same determination that propelled him to become the superstar of the sport. 

Michael felt himself traveling back in time, to ten years ago to the practice rink in Osaka’s Municipal Central Gymnasium. It was just the two of them at that time. Michael, a little starstruck to be in company with his favorite skater, was cautious in his routine, furtively watching Yuzuru run through his short program. 

Yuzuru had stopped skating midway and turned to look at him. Michael had turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, but the next thing he knew, Yuzuru had skated close to him, that Michael had almost jumped back out of surprise. But he had never moved away. 

“Michael, right?” 

It was weird, how Yuzuru knew his name. After all, compared to everything Yuzuru had accomplished, he was nothing. He managed a meek nod. 

“Hi, I’m Yuzuru. Nice to meet you.” Yuzuru had held out his hand for a shake. 

Michael had taken Yuzuru’s hand and shook it quickly. It was strangely firm. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said. “I like your short program.” 

“Thank you!” Yuzuru’s eyes had disappeared into crinkles. “I like your Biellmann. It’s so much better than mine.” 

Michael had felt his face heat up. For Yuzuru to say that he’s better at something was … unheard of. “T-Thank you!” he had sputtered. 

Somehow, there had been small talk, and the next thing Michael knew, Yuzuru was helping him with his jumps. Somehow there was talking and laughing involved, and there were talks of eating out when the competition was over. 

“I have one last request before we head back to the hotel,” Michael was brave enough to say. 

Yuzuru had tilted his head. “Okay?” 

Michael had gulped. “Can you skate your short program … one more time?” 

Yuzuru’s shoulders had relaxed, his head tilting in a hearty laugh. “Sure!” And he had skated to the center of the rink for one more round of _Parisienne Walkways_. Yuzuru had skated with a certain glow on his eyes … or was it a spark to a flame? Either way, that glow in Yuzuru’s eyes had burned in Michael’s mind, coming up in his thoughts now and then. 

And as he returned to the present, watching Yuzuru in the Meiji Jingu Gaien rink, there it was—the same glow in his eyes from ten years ago, as if the love for skating was still alive. 

The kids cheered as Yuzuru hydrobladed, and he cheered along as he did his Ina Bauer, still done well to take his breath away. Suddenly, he was back to being huddled in his bedroom, in front of his laptop, watching the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, chills running all over his body as he watched Yuzuru skate. And when he struck his final pose, Michael clapped the hardest of them all. 

He watched as relief crossed Yuzuru’s face as he tried to catch his breath. He bowed at the applause, looking around the rink as he smiled to the kids … 

… and then their gazes met. 

Michael’s eyes widened, and his heart stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Yuzuru_ **

“Breathless” was a sensation Yuzuru was used to, and has resigned to, experiencing. It came with being asthmatic—a huge weight in between his lungs and the constant fear that a shallow breath might be his last. It was the same sensation he was having, after having finished skating a routine that he still remembered from eight years ago, to cheers of children in the rink. 

But his eyes centered only on one person on the rink, and his breaths got shallower as his heart beat loudly against his eardrums. The person was someone familiar, a person from the past. Suddenly, he was taken back in time, ten years ago in the practice rink in Osaka, where he shared a couple of hours of practice with this boy … No, he’s a man now; he should be twenty-six, if he remembered correctly. 

“Michael …” he mouthed to himself as he let himself be taken by the memory. Back then, Michael was watching him furtively and a little wide-eyed. Yuzuru didn’t know why he started the introduction, but he never regretted it. 

“Alright, everyone!” Coach Oyama started clapping to get everyone’s attention, including Yuzuru’s. “Please gather here, children! I’ll introduce you to your assistant coach.” 

Yuzuru watched as the children skated out of the rink and formed one line in front of Michael and Coach Oyama. Michael is the assistant coach? Then again, he had been too busy to keep track of everyone. The last time he had talked to Michael was in Pyeongchang, and since then, everything had been a blur. 

He skated to the sides, a good distance from Coach Oyama, Michael, and the children. Coach Oyama introduced Michael, who gave a small smile and a bow. He still smiled awkwardly, Yuzuru noticed, always whenever he was introduced to someone for the first time. The children didn’t seem to notice this, immediately warming up to their new assistant coach, asking him tons of questions. Michael blinked in surprise when one mother ran to her child’s direction and handed him a small blue banner with “GO MICHAEL” printed on it, a fan group project from years ago, no doubt. Eventually he laughed as he accepted the banner and the black Sharpie handed to him, signing it and handing it to the starstruck mother. 

Finally, Coach Oyama ushered the kids back to the rink before approaching him, looking amused. “I can take it from here,” he said. “Thank you for your help.” 

Yuzuru smiled. “I had a great time. I’d like to do this again …” He trailed off. “Maybe after final exams … though I see the kids will be in good hands.” He looked at Michael, who seemed to be looking at him, too. The younger one quickly looked away, his gaze on the children. 

“We could always use your help.” Coach Oyama chuckled before waving him away. “Now, off you go. I know you have your priorities.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Michael was still talking to the kids, so he focused on putting on his skate guards, deliberately being slow about it as he tried to fumble for words to say. Though as much as he tried, the only word he could come up was … 

“Hi,” he said breathlessly when he finally looked up just in time to see Michael looking back at him. His heart was refusing to beat slower, and he was strangely out of breath even after his skate. 

“Hi.” Michael smiled at him, too, the same smile Yuzuru remembered in Osaka. 

“Long time no see.” 

“Yeah.” Michael opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. He didn’t speak after that, and to be honest, Yuzuru didn’t know what to say. After all, what was he supposed to say? Where should he begin? 

He tried, anyway. “I see you’re the new assistant coach,” he said. 

“Yeah, um …” Michael’s cheeks turned to a shade of light pink. “Oyama-sensei called me up and asked if I can substitute for a bit while he’s focusing on his skaters for Junior Worlds.” 

“That’s … great!” He vaguely recalled Michael wanting to be a coach after retiring, so this wasn’t a surprise. Still, the thought tugged his lips almost close to his ears, pride spreading to his chest. “You’re coaching in Manila?” 

“Yeah, I just finished my Level 2 certification last year.” Michael beamed as he said it. “I coach in Manila, but I thought this is a good coaching experience, so …” 

“That’s great,” Yuzuru said. “It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

“It is.” Michael looked up from the conversation; Yuzuru looked over his shoulder and found Coach Oyama gesturing towards their direction. Michael blinked and headed to the Coach, who was making some gestures he couldn’t comprehend. It didn’t take long for Michael to return, though, saying, “Oyama-sensei said I should head home. I start tomorrow anyway.” 

“Oh …” Yuzuru said, for a lack of anything better to say. “That’s great. You can rest today.” 

“Yeah …” 

There were many questions running in Yuzuru’s mind, most of them about how Michael was doing. While figuring out how to ask the right question, a different one slipped out of his mouth. 

“Do you want to have dinner and … catch up?” 

Michael blinked rapidly, and Yuzuru felt blood rush to his face. “Are you sure?” Michael asked, almost stammering. “Don’t you have other plans tonight?” 

Yuzuru promised himself he would head to the dorms to start studying after being in the rink, but … a day off wouldn’t hurt, right? “Nah, I’m free today.” 

Michael waited for him in the lobby as he went to the locker room to change. As he changed, his mind was swimming with questions of where they should go to eat. He wasn’t exactly the type to explore; his studies and schedule didn’t allow him to go beyond the vicinity of his dorm and school. He lightly banged his head on his locker as his mind drew a blank. 

He was about to settle for the ramen shop where he had lunch that day when a metaphorical lightbulb lit up on top of his head. _Of course._ Quickly, he fished for the phone in his bag and dialed the first number on speed dial—Kanako. 

Kanako picked up after three rings. “Yuzuru! How nice of you to remember you have a phone.” She sounded cheery, but Yuzuru could sense the sarcasm dripping from the other line. 

Yuzuru frowned. “We talked last Christmas,” he pointed out. Perhaps it was only Kanako who Yuzuru was in semi-constant communication with. After all, she’s his closest friend out of everyone he met in the sport. 

“Two months ago. Pretty recent, huh?” Just when Yuzuru was running out of a comeback, Kanako giggled. “Jeez, lighten up, Hanyu. You know I missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Kana-chan.” Yuzuru grinned, warmth spreading to his chest. He was relieved that despite taking different paths—Kanako following Nobu’s footsteps and getting variety show appearances and endorsements in between her commentating for NTV—more than ten years of friendship never changed them. 

“So, what can I do for you? Is Yuzuru Hanyu finally coming out from his years-long hiatus from figure skating? Am I special enough to be the first one to break the news?” 

“Ha, ha, think again.” Kanako had always joked about being the broadcaster to break the news about his comeback, whenever that will be … or if it will ever happen at all. At this point, Yuzuru was more inclined to resign himself in the latter. “Listen, I’m catching up with a friend over dinner. Do you know any place in Jingu Gaien that’s perfect?” 

“Who is this friend?” Kanako’s voice lowered in tone, a tone Yuzuru knew was bordering on snoopy, and he immediately regretted his decision. “Have you finally realized you don’t have a life and you’re planning to get laid?” 

“God, Kanako, no!” Yuzuru almost gagged. “I was on break and I went to Jingu Gaien, and it turns out Michael is Oyama-sensei’s assistant coach. We’re gonna have dinner and catch up.” 

“Michael? Martinez?” Kanako sounded surprised. “Last time I heard about him from Zijun, he was coaching in Manila … wow.” 

“Yeah, can you believe it?” Yuzuru felt his lips tug up. “It’s been that long …” 

“Has he finally realized your ten-year-old crush on him?” 

"Kanako!” Yuzuru must have said that too loudly, that someone who had just entered jumped at the volume. He bowed in apology, and buried his face in his towel as he lowered his voice. “That was … a long time ago …” 

“I’m pretty sure those feelings resurfaced a while ago~” Kanako singsonged. She giggled when Yuzuru didn’t reply. “Okay, okay, I’ll play supportive best friend now. Hold on, let me think of something … Something nice but not too date-ish, right? Hold on …” 

Yes, it was a crush. He was pretty sure it started in Osaka, sharing a rink in their alone time and eventually exchanging messenger accounts where chats were rarely exchanged. (Yuzuru was just at a loss at what to say, and Michael never brought up much conversations either.) They rarely had the same competitions, and they rarely hung out, so he had dismissed it as something that would fade away, eventually. But when Michael started getting invited to ice shows and they started having more competitions together … 

The moment they looked at each other in the rink that day, Yuzuru felt like he was eighteen again. This is not a good sign. 

Less than a minute later, Kanako sent him a Google Maps location of a restaurant ten minutes away from the rink. She texted him with a “Good luck!” and lots of hearts emojis, which Yuzuru ignored. He checked his reflection on the locker mirror just to make sure he looked okay, before heading out. 

He found Michael chatting with the front desk staff; he vaguely remembered Ryuju mentioning before that they used to train under Coach Oyama, which explained how Michael talked to everyone in the rink like old friends. Michael paused in his conversation when he saw Yuzuru, and he smiled and held a hand up in greeting. 

“Did I make you wait long?” Yuzuru asked. When Michael shook his head, he gestured for the door. “Let’s go?” 

They walked side by side, Yuzuru giving one look at the directions Kanako gave him before stuffing his phone in his pocket. Michael had his hands tucked in his jacket pocket, his gaze on the ground as they walked. Yuzuru tried to think of something, anything, to get a conversation going, but he realized it could all wait until later. 

“Where are we going?” Michael suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

“This restaurant that Kanako recommended us to try out,” Yuzuru replied. “She’s a sports correspondent now, did you know?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Michael grinned. “Zijun told me.” 

“Zijun, huh? How is she?” The last time they had seen each other was in Pyeongchang, where she placed seventh, a huge improvement after rollercoaster season after rollercoaster season. The last time she saw her, her arm was around Michael’s and they were laughing about something, an inside joke, no doubt. He felt his insides shriveling up, but he was able to quash it down. 

“She’s doing great! She’s choreographing now. Stephane dragged her to co-choreograph in Ice Legends this year.” 

He smiled, imagining Zijun directing a faceless skater in a choreography to her Sleeping Beauty program. But before he could think of something to reply, he stopped on his tracks. “We’re here,” he said, after checking the details in his phone with the sign on the building before them. 

A waiter ushered them to an empty table by the large windows, ceremoniously handing them a menu. They were quick to pick something, and they looked out of the window after ordering, with Yuzuru still thinking of a conversation starter. Eventually, he settled with, “How long will you be staying here?” 

“A month, I think?” Michael shrugged. “I might go home after the club’s ice show, I’m still not sure. Though I actually want my stay to be longer, see if this can be a permanent position.” 

Yuzuru blinked. “Really? I thought you’re coaching in Manila permanently?” 

Michael’s forehead creased. “I was planning to, but … long story short, I’m not closing any of my options yet.” 

Michael had always dreamed of making Philippine skating better, of training skaters that will be better than him, if not as good as him. So why the hesitation? But Yuzuru didn’t press that question. “I guess … if you want to be the best coach there is, you need to have the experience, right?” he remarked instead. 

The food arrived soon after, and they paused a bit from catching up in favor of quick bites and comments on the food. It was during the main course when Michael said, “My turn to ask some questions.” 

Yuzuru took a gulp of water, his heart suddenly pounding loud once. He had a hunch on what the question was going to be, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer it. “Sure,” he said anyway. 

“How come you don’t skate anymore?” Michael wasn’t the type to ask questions directly; and if he did, he would blink and turn pink and fumble for words. The Michael sitting across him didn’t even bat an eyelash. “I thought you’d be a coach or a choreographer after you retired, so to hear about you and med school was surprising.” 

Yuzuru remembered the tourist girl who asked for his autograph that morning, then the nostalgia of being in the ice after so long like greeting a long-lost friend. The question hit him harder than that morning. 

“I mean, figure skating is your life—you’ve said it, and I’ve witnessed it too many times—and to have you disappear from the one thing you really love …” Michael broke eye contact and resorted to staring at the piece of meat he was poking with his fork. “I thought something happened to you. Shoma and Sota didn’t have a clue to where you were either, so …” He laughed nervously. “I’m sorry—you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable, or—” 

“It’s okay.” Yuzuru looked out of the window, just in time to see the outside of Jingu Gaien rink, dimly illuminated by streetlights. Sometimes, he’d thought about it, in between sleepless nights of studying or trying to stay awake in his shift. Why couldn’t he have just stayed in the sport, and choreograph or coach? But that was merely rhetorical … 

He faced Michael after what felt like hours. “Before the start of the Olympic season, I was already talking to Brian about life post-retirement,” he started. “He offered me to be his assistant coach in the Cricket Club, but at the same time, I took application forms for med school in Keio because I thought sports medicine made more sense. 

“I realized I never got better even after Cup of China happened …” He closed his eyes as unwanted flashbacks came, reliving a memory he’d rather forget. “And I never took care of myself. I should have. And the federation should have. So I submitted by application in Keio, thinking that if I finally become a doctor, I’d help skaters take care of themselves, that it’s okay the skate, but your health should come first.” 

His shoulders loosened up; he didn’t realize he was tense. “Since I have to go through medical school, I expected it to be busy, but it got so busy that I had to turn down skating in shows and invitational competitions. Eventually, Arakawa-senpai gave up inviting me altogether.” The chuckle that came out of his mouth sounded bitter; he had long resigned himself that he wouldn’t be able to skate after choosing this career path, but who would have known? 

Michael was fumbling with his hands when he finished. “Hey,” he said to the younger one. “I’m happy with my life right now—I enjoy school, minus the late-night studying. I like talking to the patients, especially the kids. And when this is all over, I can go back to what I love again—only this time, I hope I can help athletes avoid injuries.” 

“But …” Michael frowned. “Don’t you miss it? Being in the rink and all? Being able to skate in ice shows?” 

“I do,” Yuzuru admitted. “But I try helping out in Oyama-sensei’s rink whenever I’m free. That’s the only skating I can afford these days. It’s still skating, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess …” He could see Michael relaxing. “Well, at least now I know how you’ve been.” 

“Missed me?” It was just supposed to be a light jibe, but Yuzuru knew that whatever Michael’s answer would be would hold more meaning than it should be. He mentally whacked himself on the head. 

“Well … yeah …” Michael shrugged, grinning. “I mean, it’s so weird to have one of your idols disappear from the scene. It’s not the same without you, you know.” 

Yuzuru couldn’t stop his heart from sinking. Of course, Michael was never shy about expressing his admiration for him. It was flattering, but Yuzuru wished the admiration could turn into something more. Ten years later, it was still what he wanted. _For god’s sake, Yuzuru._

“I was always wondering where you were.” 

Yuzuru felt his heartbeat stop for a millisecond. “You were?” For years, after one awkward conversation after another with Michael, he thought he’d just been an afterthought … 

Michael suddenly looked like blood had drained from his face, and Yuzuru would have been amused to finally see the Michael he knew, if he himself couldn’t explain what he was feeling right now. “I mean, y-yeah! I’ve always wondered because, well—I look up to you and—sometimes I show my kids your programs, and they’d ask where you were now, and I couldn’t even answer them. It was hard, you know? Not knowing how you were doing—we didn’t even keep in touch after—” 

“That was my fault,” Yuzuru admitted. “I was so caught up in finishing med school that I lost touch with everyone.” 

Michael sighed, color coming back to his face as soon as he gulped down lots of water. “So yeah … At least …” He smiled. “I got to see you now.” 

“Me, too.” Yuzuru smiled back. 

They continued the dinner with a lot of questions for each other, rarely punctured by amicable silence. Michael told him that he is staying in an apartment in Shibuya, just a ten-minute walk away from JSF. Yuzuru told him about life in medical school. Michael told him about the kids he coached in Manila. Yuzuru told him about the kids he had gotten close with during his internship. 

And the next thing he knew, they had been in the restaurant for three hours. Yuzuru remembered his notes that needed to be reviewed, and he mentally groaned. This was one of those nights when he was usually tempted to skip studying in favor of sleeping or a day out with his classmates. 

But Michael looked at his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? I should get going. Early first day tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” Yuzuru hoped he didn’t sound too disappointed, but he reminded himself it wasn’t as they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. “I guess we should get going?” He called the waiter for the bill, and stopped Michael before he could even fish for his wallet. “It’s okay. I’ll pay.” 

Michael’s red face betrayed his seemingly calm demeanor. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll pay next time.” 

“Sure, no problem.” There was still quite a crowd outside as they stepped out of the restaurant. “Hey,” he said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I had a great time today.” 

“Me, too.” Michael smiled. “I’ll see you around?” 

“Definitely.” Yuzuru was about to turn around and walk the other way when he remembered something that he needed to do before they parted ways. “Hey, can I get your number? So I can contact you whenever I’m free.” 

“Oh, sure …” 

A quick exchange of numbers later, and they parted ways. Yuzuru felt his cheeks hurting as he walked (or maybe skipped?) home, but he couldn’t care less. 

He plopped himself on his bed as soon as he arrived in the dorm. Now that he and Michael had just met, studying while his mind was running through what happened that day now seemed impossible. He sighed as he fished for his phone, absentmindedly wondering whether he should text Michael or— 

His phone beeped, Michael’s name showing up on the screen. Yuzuru’s thumbs were quick to type his pin code to reveal the younger one’s message. 

_“Hey, Michael here! I had a fun time today. When you’re free from studying or whatever, you know where to find me. See you again! ^-^”_

Yuzuru found himself chuckling as he read the message over and over again. It took him at least five minutes before he could come up with a reply, but he couldn’t care less. 

_See you again, huh …?_ He grinned until his cheeks started to hurt and buried his face in his pillow. 

He couldn’t wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Michael_ **

He arrived in his apartment in fifteen minutes, and he applauded himself for not getting lost. The landlady had just arrived, too, and she struck up a short conversation with him about the day. Michael was relieved the landlady knew English; Japanese was a language he always tried to learn, but never spoke fluently. He told her about his unofficial first day in the rink. He didn’t mention Yuzuru, but he felt his cheeks hurt, anyway. 

He plopped on his bed as soon as he arrived, fishing out his phone. It opened to the contacts list, Yuzuru’s name and number in it. Events of that day flashed back to him, and he let out an embarrassing laugh … or he assumed it sounded like a giggle. 

Imagine that. Here he was, twenty-six years old and gushing over a decade-old crush. He thought time would make him forget, would just make him nostalgic, but … the moment he locked gazes with Yuzuru in the rink, he felt like he was a teenager again. 

He took a deep breath and opened his messaging app. It took him at least five more minutes to think of something to say, and settled with, _“Hey, Michael here! I had a fun time today. When you’re free from studying or whatever, you know where to find me. See you again! ^-^”_ He had to read it a few more times before hitting the Send button, just to make sure it sounded friendly, neutral. 

Just when he thought he could breathe, his phone beeped five minutes later, with Yuzuru’s reply. 

_“I had a great time, too! I’ll definitely drop by whenever I’m free. See you!”_

Michael tried to remind himself that he’s no longer fifteen years old, that he shouldn’t be feeling like this anymore, but to no avail. 

His phone beeped again, and he was quick to type his pin code. It was a message from Zijun, and he deflated a little. Just a little. The last time he was in touch in Zijun was the week before this; he was preparing for Japan, and she for Zurich, where she will be co-choreographer in Stephane Lambiel’s ice show. She must have settled in Zurich already. 

_"Just landed! Are you awake? Can we Skype?”_

Michael hasn’t unpacked yet, and it took quite an effort to fish out his laptop from his bag, and even more effort to look for the pocket Wi-Fi he had borrowed from the landlady. He leaned against the wall by his bed and opened Skype, calling Zijun. 

Zijun answered after the first ring, and she looked simple but beautiful, as always. She had dark circles under her eyes, her hair tied up in a bun, and a smile crossing her face. “Hey, you!” she greeted. 

“Hey!” he greeted, grinning. “What time is it there?” 

“Two o’clock.” Zijun grinned back and started to move her screen. “Guess who came along with me!” She shifted the screen to pan to three familiar faces. 

Michael made a sound that he presumed was out of surprise when he recognized the three. “What are you guys doing here?” he blurted out. 

“Well, hello to you too, Michael.” Jinseo laughed as he waved at him from the other end. Junehyoung and Soyoun, who were sitting beside him, waved cheerily as well. 

“Stephane invited them,” Zijun said. “He wanted to invite you, too, but obviously you’re occupied.” 

“Ah, too bad, maybe next time.” Michael had been a regular in Ice Legends, but with his schedule, he had to pass for this year. “How are you guys?” The last time he had spoken to Jinseo, Junehyoung, and Soyoun was in All That Skate last year, where he and Jinseo had been privy to Junehyoung’s plans of proposing to Soyoun. (He ended up doing so in the finale, and Soyoun happily accepted it.) 

“Junehyoung and I have a date.” Soyoun beamed as she wrapped her arm around Junehyoung’s. “April 24. Can you come?” 

Michael checked his calendar for his schedule, though he knew he’d move all his appointments for this, if he had any schedule conflicts. “I’m free,” he said, his grin widening. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“I’m the best man!” Jinseo pointed to himself proudly, as if he had just won the lottery. “Then Zijun’s the maid of honor. Yuna-noona’s gonna be there, too—” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re their wedding organizer,” Michael joked, and Jinseo made a choking sound as everyone else laughed. 

“He’s actually more hands-on about the plans than we are,” Soyoun said with a laugh, pulling Jinseo by the cheek. “Anyway, how are you, Michael? Assistant coaching stint doing okay?” 

“I haven’t started yet. I just met President Arakawa, then met Oyama-sensei and got to know the kids. I’m actually starting tomorrow.” He paused for a while; the four became his closest friends in his career, that he told them everything. He guessed they should be privy to this information, too. “Yuzuru was in the rink, too.” 

“Yuzuru?!” It was Jinseo who screamed the loudest, that people in the background started staring in their direction. “Are you sure it’s Yuzuru Hanyu? He could have been Sota or someone else with the same body type.” 

“We talked, and we had dinner. That’s definitely Yuzuru Hanyu.” 

“Dinner, huh?” Zijun’s eyes were the first to turn feline-like, the smirk emerging in her face a bad sign. “So I’m guessing you two finally had your date?” 

“What are you talking about, Zijun?” Soyoun was batting her eyelashes as she talked as if honey oozed out of her lips. “Michael and Yuzuru always had dinner dates. Not as much dinner dates as you two, though.” 

“Michael and I have dinner together, but he and Yuzuru have better dinner dates,” Zijun said as she waved a hand. “Quality over quantity, you know.” 

“Guys.” The room suddenly felt warmer, and Michael hoped he just needed to ask the landlady about the heater. It was Soyoun and Zijun who were merciless with the teasing ever since they found out about his crush on Yuzuru. 

“Anyway, how is he?” Junehyoung asked. “It’s like he disappeared from the face of the planet after retiring.” 

“He’s doing okay, actually,” Michael replied. And he related to them his conversation with Yuzuru, about medical school to prepare himself for sports medicine, about not keeping in touch. He realized he should have asked Yuzuru first about telling someone else about that story, but he made a mental note to tell Yuzuru about it the next time they meet. (He grinned to himself again at the thought of meeting Yuzuru again.) 

It was Jinseo who was the first to digest the whole story quickly. He nodded in understanding and remarked, “That’s definitely better than all the theories I had.” 

Michael didn’t want to know whatever theories Jinseo had. “At least we now know he’s alive,” he managed. 

“At least you can now sleep at night knowing you two can have dates until you leave,” Junehyoung teased. 

“Shut up, Junehyoung.” 

Fortunately, the conversation shifted to something else other than Yuzuru—their itinerary in Switzerland, Junehyoung and Soyoun’s wedding plans, coaching woes. Time passed faster than he wanted it to be, with the four reluctantly saying goodbye for Stephane’s welcome dinner, and Michael needing to sleep for tomorrow’s big day. 

He woke up at eight in the morning, feeling slightly better than yesterday. He ended up in 7-Eleven again, making a mental note to shop for groceries later, getting the first bento box he could get his hands on. Just as he ate, he messaged his mother about the day, then read Coach Oyama’s schedule for him for the whole month. He was to alternate between helping train the kids heading to Junior Worlds and teaching some of the juveniles. 

Junior Worlds is in a month. If his research—and the videos sent to him—was correct, Coach Oyama’s students Nobuo Araki and Yuki Mori are Japan’s junior champion and junior silver medalist, respectively. And because of that, they were part of the Junior World team, and both have a good chance of making it to the podium. Nothing had changed since he left the junior scene—Japanese men still have a spot in the podium, and the Japanese ladies often spoiled a Russian sweep. Just the thought of being part of a team that could possibly make a Junior World—and a future senior World—champion already excited him. 

He headed to Jingu Gaien after half an hour in the convenience store. Coach Oyama was already there, browsing through paperwork in his desk. He smiled as Michael greeted, asking him to sit down. “I give you permission to use this desk in my absence,” he said. “But for now, I have to apologize. I have the staff bring in a table here.” 

“Thank you.” Michael scratched his cheek as he took a seat. 

“I’m assuming you’ve already watched the videos of Nobuo and Yuki?” Coach Oyama asked. When Michael nodded, he added, “What are your thoughts on them?” 

“Nobuo’s got great technique, better from what I’ve seen from the other juniors,” Michael admitted. “I think he just needs to work on the consistency of his triple axel. As for Yuki, I love her musicality, but from what I’ve seen in her JGP and Nationals videos, she tends to fall apart after one mistake, so we need to work on her mental toughness.” 

“Good, good, we’re on the same page.” Coach Oyama nodded. “Their weaknesses so far … can those be fixed just in time for Worlds?” 

“It can be done,” Michael said, hopeful. 

“Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Nobuo and Yuki were already warming up when they arrived in the rink. Both skaters were shy as Coach Oyama introduced them, with Yuki muttering she couldn’t make her Biellmann as amazing as his. Michael laughed in embarrassment before Coach Oyama instructed his skaters to get ready to skate their programs. 

After a couple of rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Nobuo was the first to skate. He skated to a blues medley for his short program, and he ended up falling on his opening triple axel. Fall aside, the rest of the program was solid. The free skate to Rama Lama, though, was shaky, Nobuo fighting through some landings after another fall. The young skater looked disappointed as he skated back to the boards, not meeting Michael’s eyes as Yuki took to the ice. 

Yuki, meanwhile, was just as how Michael had seen her in the videos Coach Oyama sent him. At fourteen, she had this lyrical maturity that could rival the senior lady skaters. The short program to Massenet’s _Ariane_ took his breath away, the execution perfect. It was in the free skate to _Swan Lake_ where Yuki started to be frazzled after a fall and a stepout, where the performance was for the sake of finishing the program rather than interpreting till the end. 

“Well?” Coach Oyama asked while the two went to take a quick break. 

Michael examined the notes he had written during his observation. “There’s not much to be changed,” he admitted. “We just need to make them better.” 

“Okay. Let’s call them back here, and let’s get to work.” 

Coach Oyama decided on one-on-ones first, with Michael getting assigned to Yuki for the day. Yuki was a little nervous in his presence, and Michael tried to make her comfortable, encouraging her after nailing element after element. She was smiling at the end of the one-on-one session, so Michael thought he did a great job. Nobuo was a little easier to handle; he was a little more confident and determined when he skated, and Michael just had to worry about proper triple axel technique. (He almost laughed to himself, remembering year after year of triple axel attempts.) 

There was no time for a quick break, even with Nobuo and Yuki leaving for some consultations with their choreographer (Shoma, apparently) and more off-ice training. After lunch, the rink started pouring in with kids for their skating lessons. Michael was no stranger to this, though he spent the first half of the session observing Coach Oyama before it was his turn to teach. It was a struggle, with the language barrier and all, but he thought he managed just fine. 

He plopped on his office chair at the end of the day, finally feeling the dredges of exhaustion take over. Coach Oyama had plopped on his table a cup of tea and had given him a pat on the shoulder “for a job well done.” They spend a good ten minutes relaxing before they launched into an end-of-the-day meeting, both for the two junior skaters and the juvenile kids—what went right, what went wrong, and action points for the next meeting. The day ended with Michael feeling more or less accomplished, and hopeful for the next day. 

He was barely out of the rink when he received a text from Yuzuru, and his palms started to sweat. _“Hey, how was your first day? :)”_

Michael couldn’t resist grinning as he typed his reply, ignoring the staff’s curious stares. _“Great. Tired. You, how’s your studying?”_

_“Done for the day and I’m dying :( :( You wanna hang out?”_

_“Hang out.”_ Suddenly, Michael felt his heart stop beating. He wasn’t over from last night’s dinner, and now … He racked his brain for his schedule for the day, and realized he had to do grocery shopping. 

But he couldn’t say no either, so … 

_“I was actually planning on grocery shopping. Mom doesn’t want me to survive on convenience store food. Do you wanna come with? I actually don’t know where to shop?”_

Michael barely put down his phone when Yuzuru’s message arrived, with directions to this grocery store and a _“Meet me there. I’m on my way. :D”_ He quickly stuffed his phone in his pocket and made a beeline out of the rink. 

Yuzuru was pacing back and forth in front of the grocery store, earning stares from passersby. He had a huge backpack slung against his right shoulder, a thick textbook huddled to his chest. Michael grinned in amusement as he called the older one. He didn’t expect Yuzuru to drop his book, wincing for the older one as it landed on his foot. 

“Sorry about that!” Michael said, rushing in an attempt to pick up the book. Yuzuru had already stooped down to pick it up, and their fingers ended up brushing against each other. Michael ended up pulling back his hand, with Yuzuru picking up the book instead. 

“It’s okay, I’m still alive.” Yuzuru huddled the book to his chest again, grinning to show that there was nothing to worry about. “So, shall we?” 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Michael asked as he grabbed the nearest cart as soon as they stepped inside. “I mean, I don’t want to get in the way of your studies …” 

“No, you’re not in the way,” Yuzuru insisted. “I want to hang out with you. Besides, every students needs his break.” Michael was about to say something, but Yuzuru waved a hand and asked, “So, what’s on your grocery list?” 

To be honest, Michael doesn’t have one, but he quickly mentally computed the budget he should allocate for grocery shopping, which should be at least once a week. He and Yuzuru ended up aimlessly going from aisle to aisle, Michael picking up whatever suited his interest. He ended up going over-budget, after being convinced by Yuzuru to splurge on a couple of sweets and a box of Pocky for them to share. 

A crazy idea came to his mind as soon as he paid for the groceries. Yuzuru was waiting for him by the counter, ready to help with the bags, when he blurted out, “Hey, wanna have dinner in my place? I’ll cook.” 

Yuzuru’s eyes widened, and Michael could feel the heat spread to his face. It was so straightforward, that even he himself was surprised by the offer. But he had a good feeling about this. If last night’s dinner was any indication, at least … 

To his surprise, though, Yuzuru answered, “Sure.”


	5. Chapter 5

**_Yuzuru_ **

Michael’s apartment complex was located in a quiet street in Shibuya, a fifteen-minute walk from the grocery store. The landlady was there, frozen as Michael introduced him to her, and she only spoke in stutters when he and Michael entered the elevator. “She’s a fan,” Michael told him as he punched the button for the fifth floor. “Well, she likes Sota more now, but she said she used to go to NHK Trophy every year to watch you.” 

“Ah.” He could never remember the faces of the many fans who came to watch and support him. He wished he could. 

Yuzuru couldn’t help but make a sound of admiration when Michael let him inside the apartment. “This is three times bigger than my dorm room!” he pointed out, eyes darting from the kitchen to the living room-slash-bedroom. “And cleaner, too!” 

Michael chuckled as he placed the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “To be fair, I haven’t unpacked yet.” He took the grocery bag from Yuzuru’s grasp, and the chills were back when their fingers brushed. “Make yourself at home. I’ll go whip something up really quick. Any special requests?” 

“Um …” By that time, Yuzuru had plopped his book on the coffee table and had settled his bag on the sofa. “Anything’s fine. Maybe I should help?” 

“No, it’s okay! I’m the host, so I should do the cooking. You can, uh, relax or do some reading, if you want.” 

“Sure … if you insist.” Somehow, Yuzuru was relieved; the last time he helped his sister cooked, he wasn’t allowed to touch even a bowl. So, he plopped on the couch and opened his neurology textbook. 

Studying was impossible, though, not when his eyes were drifting towards the kitchen’s direction. Michael’s eyebrows were furrowed together as he searched for bowls and utensils in the kitchen, a place in the apartment he had yet to fully navigate. He sighed in relief as he found the things he was looking for, placing the items he needed on the counter before he started digging through the grocery bags. 

He was brought out of his observation when his phone beeped. It was Kanako. _“So how come I never got details of your dinner with Michael, huh?”_ Attached were three lines of sad puppy emojis. 

Yuzuru felt a punch of guilt to the gut, but that was quick to subside. Kanako had always been merciless in teasing, might as well delay her impatience on details. _“Sorry, I forgot,”_ he texted back. 

_“You forgot? Some friend you are.”_ More sad puppy emojis. _“After all the help I’ve given you for a great date …”_

Yuzuru rolled his eyes—what a drama queen. _“Dinner went great. Now I’m in Michael’s apartment. He’s cooking dinner.”_

The reply was how he expected it to be—in all caps and lots of heart emojis. _“OMGGGGGGGG Not even a week and already domestic!!!”_

_“Shut up.”_

The banter continued like that—Kanako teasing and Yuzuru more or less grinning like an idiot. He barely noticed Michael near him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He almost jumped, especially when he noticed Michael’s face unusually close to his. 

“You okay?” Michael asked, a frown on his face. 

“Oh, y-yeah!” Yuzuru managed to edge back. “Kanako was just telling a funny story at work, that’s all!” He hastily stuffed his phone in his pocket. “Um, dinner’s ready?” 

“Yeah! Is it okay if we eat here? I don’t really have a dining area …” 

Michael ended up sitting next to Yuzuru in the sofa as they ate omurice. The omurice was delicious, and Yuzuru wasted no time praising it, and it was cute how Michael had blushed at the compliments. “I wish I know how to cook like this,” he added before taking another bite. 

“You don’t know how to cook?” Michael sounded incredulous. “How do you eat every day?” 

It was Yuzuru’s turn to turn red. He remembered the opportunities he had to learn how to cook—in Toronto, getting his own dorm room—then the excuse of “being too busy.” He regretted those wasted opportunities. “There’s this really good breakfast place near the dorm—that’s where I eat every morning,” he said, grinning as he remembered Old Man and the smell of miso soup as soon as he entered. “For lunch, I eat in the hospital cafeteria or in the university cafeteria. Then for dinner, it’s usually convenience store food.” 

“It’s not good to eat convenience store food all the time.” Michael shook his head. “And to think you’re a med school student?” 

“Yeah, maybe I need someone to teach me how to cook so I can, you know, be an ideal med school student?” He didn’t know how he was able to blurt that out—maybe out of sarcasm, and partly out of hope that maybe, just maybe, Michael would volunteer … 

There was a long stretch of silence, and Yuzuru felt another punch to the gut. Was he overstepping on boundaries? He understood that they were friends back then, but they were just catching up after years of not talking, and what if— 

But Michael rolled his eyes, though there was a smile on his face, which didn’t help the butterflies in Yuzuru’s stomach. “Fine. Whenever you’re free.” 

Yuzuru mentally pumped his fist in the air. 

His neurology textbook forgotten, they spent the whole night chatting and catching up again. Michael was more updated with what happened with everyone after he retired. (He pretty much knew about everyone in Team Japan, with Kanako updating him every now and then.) Javi and Miki got married (Yuzuru already knew this; he was there, and he was the best man). Elizabet is still competing under Brian. Misha is now an in-demand choreographer. Denis is the president of Kazakhstan’s Skating Federation. Han is now one of China’s top coaches. 

His friends were going places, and Yuzuru was at loss as to how he’ll fit in now. 

“Did you seriously not get in touch with everyone else since you got in med school?” Michael asked, grabbing his empty plate and heading for the sink. 

“I told you, ‘busy in med school’ is not a good excuse,” Yuzuru said wryly, following the younger one, his back leaning against the counter. 

“Maybe you should start getting back in touch,” Michael said with a shrug. “Everyone was wondering about you, you know. Everyone misses you.” He was about to say something else, but closed his mouth before focusing on washing the dishes. 

“I’ll try to get back in touch with everyone.” Yuzuru took the washed dishes from Michael’s grip, settling it on what he assumed to be the dryer. (Michael didn’t protest, so he guessed he did the right thing.) He remembered he still had everyone’s chat accounts—Javier the first on the list. He was considering talking to everyone after his final exams. The thought made him excited. 

“Hey.” Michael brightened up. “If you happen to have dinner here again, and Zijun and the others are online, maybe we can have a group chat.” 

“Dinner here again?” Yuzuru repeated, and the butterflies in his stomach re-emerged. Michael wanted this dinner-at-home thing more often? 

“You don’t have a kitchen in your dorm room, and you can’t even cook, right?” Michael raised an eyebrow, his gaze still focused on the dishes. When Yuzuru nodded, he added, “Exactly. Someone has to teach you how to cook and help you survive.” 

“Okay, I get your point.” Yuzuru put his hands up, but he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. 

He wanted to stay in Michael’s apartment to catch up some more, but Yuzuru knew he should start studying again. He bid the younger one goodbye before making his way home, promising to see each other next time. 

Yuzuru held on to that promise, and he walked back home with an extra spring in his step. 

Next time didn’t come so soon. Finals were in two weeks, and Yuzuru knew studies have to take priority; the last two years of med school are crucial, after all. His internship was important, but only a percentage of his grade. He has to pass the rest of his exams before he could be considered for promotion to his last year. 

He spent most of his mornings in the library with Fujikawa and Hasegawa, poring through book after book and quizzing each other on every possible question that the professors will throw at them. His only break was lunch and dinner, and a quick nap in the dorm before he was back to studying again. 

Michael would text him, a welcome distraction from the routine. Sometimes he would just be asking how he was, and Yuzuru would reply with the usual “I’m dying HELP” text, and Michael would send him an encouraging message. Sometimes Michael would text him the progress of the skaters in the rink. Sometimes Yuzuru would rant about school. 

Most of the time, either one of them would send “Can’t wait to see you again”, and Yuzuru would end up flopping on the bed, impatient. 

_“So when are your finals?”_ Michael texted him. By then, it had been a week of studying, and Yuzuru was pretty sure he hadn’t seen daylight yet. 

Yuzuru checked his calendar, all the important dates scribbled in red. He swore softly. _“Wednesday to Friday,”_ he texted back. _“Please start arranging my funeral.”_

He ended up grinning when Michael sent him back with a _“Idiot. You’ll survive.”_ Followed by a, _“Let’s have dinner when you’re done. My treat.”_

Of course, he couldn’t say no to that. Yuzuru typed a _“Sure! I’ll text you when I’m finally free!”_ before prodding himself to get back to studying. 

A week and fifteen hours of sitting in a classroom, racking his brain for answers, and he was free. He stepped out of the exam venue, the weight off his shoulders lifted. His classmates were inviting him to go out for drinks, and he politely declined, saying he had plans. Of course, there was teasing involved, but Yuzuru merely smiled and kept his mouth shut, fishing out his phone so he could text Michael. 

He hasn’t typed in his pin code yet when he heard someone calling his name. He looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of Kanako strolling towards him. She had a bob cut now; years before she had cut her hair short and didn’t want to let go of that hairstyle after getting tons of compliments. The smile she was so famous for never left her, and Yuzuru completely forgot about texting and just ran forward to give her a hug. 

“What are you doing here?” Yuzuru asked when they pull away. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but—” 

“I was on assignment,” Kanako replied with a shrug. “Thought I could pay my best friend a visit after exams. Are you alive?” 

“Barely.” Yuzuru sighed in relief. “So you wanna get coffee and catch up?” As much as he wanted to meet Michael, he remembered that he hadn’t seen Kanako since Christmas. He could meet Michael tomorrow. 

“Duh!” Kanako laughed as she looped an arm around Yuzuru’s. “Come on, I know a perfect place.” 

Kanako was craving for Chococro, apparently, so she dragged Yuzuru to the nearest St. Marc. Yuzuru hadn’t eaten since morning, so he ended up buying a Chococro and a katsu burger. Kanako did most of the talking—she shared some stories about her assignment, which was an interview of the university football team. She updated him about the goings-on in the group—Keiji coaching in Kurashiki University, Satoko being an in-demand choreographer, Rika recently being assigned as Coach Nagakubo’s assistant coach. Kanako said something about Dai, Nobu, and Taka organizing a Team Japan grand reunion sometime soon. “You’re still invited, you know,” she said with a wink. 

Yuzuru checked the calendar in his cell phone and realized, for the first time in a while, that he was actually available for a skating thing. He couldn’t resist grinning. “You know what? I guess I can go.” 

“Awesome!” Kanako clapped gleefully. “You need a Plus One for the party. Everyone has one.” 

“Even you?” Yuzuru said. He racked his brain for anyone he could possibly invite, but only Michael came to mind. But inviting Michael would launch a barrage of teasing, something he wouldn’t want him and Michael to endure. (Michael, mostly.) Kanako would be the most reasonable Plus One to invite … 

Kanako rolled her eyes. “I have a boyfriend, Yuzuru, I can’t believe you forgot! We’ve been going out for ten years now!” 

Right. And now, Yuzuru was out of options. 

“Invite Michael, you idiot! He’s obviously the first one you thought of! And he hung out with most of us, so he wouldn’t feel out of place!” 

Yuzuru felt his face burning, and he didn’t reply to that. “I’ll … think about it,” he muttered, stuffing Chococro in his mouth. He could see Kanako making a fist-pump, but he chose to ignore it. 

“A word of advice, Yuzuru?” Kanako sipped her tea before she continued. “You’ve been so buried in your books lately, but it’s great to follow your heart every once in a while. Take it from someone who knows.” 

Yuzuru knew that advice all too well. He had been advised to do that years before, only to have his head hold him back. He had spent countless sleepless nights wondering what would have happened if he had taken the chance. 

To be honest, he would have confessed to Michael; he could recall that day as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was in Helsinki, after the men’s free skate. He had just skated the cleanest skate of the season, enough to get a second World title. Michael, meanwhile, had the best skate of his career, a few points short of a Top 10 finish. Worlds had ended, and everyone was still basking in the adrenaline of the entire week. 

It was already close to midnight when he returned to the hotel after being bombarded by fans and interviews. Kobayashi was quick to sneak him in the back entrance of the hotel after finding out more fans were waiting in the hotel lobby. They had to let him use the staff elevator so he could head back to his room in one piece. 

In the comfort of his own room, he plopped down his bed, alternating between laughing and crying. He did it. He got his second World title, and with two skates that could prove it. He had worked blood, sweat, and tears for this, and now, he could heave a sigh of relief, at least for the time being. Olympic season will be coming up, but he could forget about it for the rest of the week. 

His mother had told him to get some rest for the gala, but sleep eluded him. He decided to get up and grab the keys on the coffee table, to take a walk. It was two in the morning—fans wouldn’t be lurking outside, right? 

He ended up in the hotel balcony, for a lack of any other place to go to. There was not a single person on sight, and Yuzuru chose to take a seat on the wicker chairs near the edge of the balcony. He sighed at the dim lights surrounding Helsinki, the city already starting to lull to sleep. 

There was a noise by the entrance, and Yuzuru felt goose bumps all over his body. He had heard stories from Javi about the hotel being haunted, which didn’t help his growing paranoia. He tried to gather his wits to take a look over his shoulder. It couldn’t be some supernatural being … 

It wasn’t. He could make out the tall, lanky figure, but he didn’t recognize Michael until he hovered by the balcony’s dim lights. His breath hitched in his throat as the younger one approached. “Hey,” he managed, smiling. 

“Hey, Yuzuru,” Michael said, blinking. “What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you the same thing.” 

“Fair enough.” Michael shrugged. “Mind if I sit down next to you?” 

“Yes, if you keep being formal like that.” Yuzuru chuckled when Michael’s cheeks turned red; at least, he thought it turned red (it was hard to make out, with the dim light and all). “Come on, we’re friends.” They have started talking to each other more often since Michael got invited to Fantasy on Ice, but Michael couldn’t seem to drop the formal treatment. 

“Sorry. Old habits die hard.” Michael laughed nervously as he took a seat next to Yuzuru. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Me either.” Yuzuru tried not to let Michael catch him looking at his direction. “Congratulations tonight.” 

“I should be the one congratulating you, World Champion! I was planning on being in the Top 10, but …” He sighed, his gaze on the view. 

“Are you kidding me? You went up from 19th to 11th!” He hovered his hand, unsure as to pat the younger one’s shoulder, then he decided against it. “You had the best skate of your career, and you got the Philippines two spots for the Olympics. That’s something to be proud of!” 

“If only the Philippines has someone else to send …” He paused, then frowned. “On second thought …” He laughed, and Yuzuru laughed along with him. 

They spent the rest of the late morning looking out at the view. The chilly gust of wind brushed past them, and he could feel Michael shifting closer to him. Yuzuru didn’t want to read more into it, but he shifted closer anyway so that their arms were touching. He felt a slight spark as their arms touched; must be the friction. 

Suddenly, only one thought was on Yuzuru’s mind. Kanako had been prodding him to confess to Michael already, but Yuzuru kept putting it off until later. (Kanako had already threatened that she will be the one doing the confessing for him, which could end up in a disaster, and that was something he’d rather not experience.) Maybe tonight was the right time? It was just the two of them right now … 

“Hey, Michael …” 

Just as he said that, Michael also blurted out a “Hey, Yuzuru …?” The two paused and stared at each other before bursting into laughter. “I was planning to say something weird that happened today,” Michael said once the laughter had died down. “But you go first.” 

Yuzuru go first. His heart was pumping hard against his chest, and he wanted to calm himself first. “No, it’s okay, you go first.” Maybe a few light words could calm him down … 

He was preparing for some cheesy joke, preparing himself to try and laugh at the punch line … 

“After my free skate, Zijun told me she liked me.” 

He couldn’t laugh. He couldn’t even move. It was like looking at his scores after a disappointing skate and knowing he had failed himself and everyone watching. And even if the World title was back in his hands, somehow the adrenaline and the joy that came with it suddenly disappeared. 

Michael looked like he was about to say something else when Yuzuru’s phone rang. His hands were shaking as he fished it out of his pocket, his mother’s photo on the caller details. His mother was asking where he was, telling him to come back because he still has the gala to prepare for. And typically Yuzuru would ask for ten more minutes, but right now, he would rather get away. 

Michael’s face fell as Yuzuru ended the call. “Your mom?” he said. When Yuzuru nodded, he added, “Can’t you stay for ten more minutes? I was getting to the good part.” 

“I’d love to, but Mom wants me in bed right now, or she’s dropping me in the gala.” Yuzuru sighed as he got up. “Sorry about that. Maybe we should talk about it some other time. There’s no rush, right?” 

“Right …” Michael frowned, but he stood up. “See you in the banquet?” 

“Sure. See you!” Yuzuru raised a hand and waved at Michael before running out of the balcony and never looking back. 

Someone snapped their fingers in front of him, and the next thing he knew, he was back to reality, and Kanako was looking concerned. “Hey, where did you drift off to?” she asked. 

Yuzuru blinked, and he realized he had his fists clenched. “The past, I guess …” he said, leaning against the chair in an attempt to relax. “To something I hope I can finally say.” 

Kanako’s eyes widened, and she almost squealed if she hadn’t covered her mouth with her hands. “You mean …?” 

He had regretted that moment for six years. And now, he could feel a glimmer of hope, now that Michael’s here. He was going to tell him how he felt, no matter what happens. 

He isn’t going to run away this time.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Michael_ **

Michael was used to quickly forming a routine that it barely registered to him that he had been in Japan for two weeks already. Mornings were dedicated to co-coaching Nobuo and Yuki with Coach Oyama. (By the third week, Nobuo only fell thrice on his triple axel during practice, and Yuki could somehow pull herself together throughout the program despite a mistake.) Afternoons were dedicated to teaching the juveniles with their jumps, which most of them were able to learn quickly. 

Every week he’d drop by JSF to report to Shizuka. It wasn’t anything serious—she’d ask how he was, and he’d tell stories about Nobuo and Yuki and the juveniles. Sometimes she’d ask about the things he learned. Even if he was the teacher, surprisingly he had learned a lot from the kids, too. 

“I wish I knew these things when I was still competing,” Michael admitted during one meeting. 

“I know how you feel.” Shizuka chuckled. “I would look back at my free skate in Torino, and I wish I could have skated with more impact. But at least we learn to help the younger ones be better, right?” 

“I guess, that’s true.” Michael nodded with a smile. Seeing Nobuo skate, especially, was like watching himself back when he was a junior. Only this time, Nobuo was more confident and more determined than he was. 

“By the way …” Shizuka leaned forward in her desk, knuckles propping her chin. “I heard from Oyama-sensei that Yuzuru was in the rink before.” 

Yuzuru. The very mention of the name would spread warmth in his chest, and he couldn’t resist smiling. “Yeah, he was. He’s in med school.” 

“Precisely the reason I stopped inviting him to do ice shows and invitational competitions. His schedule is always fully booked.” Shizuka sighed. “I respect his reasons for turning the invitations down, and I know his reasons for his career after competing. I guess he’ll come back when he’s ready.” 

“His love for skating never died,” Michael couldn’t resist blurting out. “He’s going to be a big help in skating when he becomes a doctor.” 

Shizuka looked at him carefully before chuckling. “I forgot you look up to him,” she said. “Yes, I know he’ll do great things. He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, after all.” 

Speaking of Yuzuru … He and Yuzuru haven’t seen each other in a while. The older one had final exams to study for, and as much as Michael wanted to see him, studies should be the focus. Michael was tempted to drop by the dorm or the campus, but he didn’t know the dorm address, nor does he know Yuzuru’s schedule. In the end, he settled for texting encouraging messages to Yuzuru; with his texts of “I’m dying HELP”, he sounded like he needed it. Sometimes, he’d text what would happen in the rink, just so Yuzuru could feel the normalcy for a bit. 

And then either one of them would send “Can’t wait to see you again”, and Michael would grin like an idiot, much to his students’ confusion. 

_“So when are your finals?”_ Michael texted. It had been a week of studying, and he was pretty sure Yuzuru was still buried in his books. 

It felt like hours before Yuzuru texted back. _“Wednesday to Friday. Please start arranging my funeral.”_

Michael chuckled. He was lucky he had just gotten home; otherwise, he would be met by judgmental stares from the kids again. He texted back, _“Idiot. You’ll survive.”_ A thought came to his mind, and he texted a _“Let’s have dinner when you’re done. My treat.”_

This time, the response was quick. _“Sure! I’ll text you when I’m finally free!”_

Just as Michael texted him to go back to studying, Zijun messaged him, asking if they could call each other on Skype. By the time Michael picked up for the video call, he could recognize where Zijun was based on the background. “Welcome home!” he said. “When did you land in Beijing?” 

“Yesterday?” Zijun yawned. “What day is it today?” 

“Friday …?” 

“Right, right … I swear, why do continents have differing time zones?” 

“How was the ice show? How were Stephane and the others?” 

Zijun lightened up as she started talking about the ice show, the tour of the city, and the many antics Jinseo and Junehyoung have come up with. Han joined the cast sometime last weekend, reviving one of his exhibitions from years ago, this time including the Sprite bottle. She talked about her and Soyoun helping out in Stephane’s skating school sometime in the fall. “I might consider it, after I finish the kids’ programs during the off-season.” 

“Kids, huh?” Michael chuckled. “Gosh, we’re getting old, aren’t we?” 

“Try telling that to Jian-qianbei and see what happens!” Zijun laughed. “Anyway, how are you? Coaching doing okay?” 

"Yeah, it is." And Michael proceeded to tell Zijun stories about the kids, and how he had met Shoma and Sota for dinner at one point. Michael told her about Nobuo and Yuki’s improvement and how he wanted to be part of the team in Korea. “But someone’s gotta baby-sit the juveniles.” 

“And someone’s gotta make sure Yuzuru doesn’t die, right?” Zijun singsonged, laughing when Michael glared at her. “By the way, how is he?” 

“He’s actually dying.” Michael chuckled. “Well, knowing Yuzuru, he’ll get through final exams, but he’s asking me to arrange his funeral.” 

“What a drama queen.” Zijun rolled her eyes. “But, seriously, how are _you two_?” 

Michael couldn’t resist grinning. After the reunion in the rink they text a lot, had frequent dinners before Yuzuru started studying for finals, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to say. No matter how many times Jinseo or Junehyoung would tease him about finally having “a happy ending,” Michael would rather stick to reality, to the part where they’re just friends. 

“Hey.” Zijun was using her serious voice, the one she reserved for conversations about careers, _about Yuzuru_. “I can tell you’re holding back.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael lied. He knew Zijun long enough to predict what she was about to say next. They’ve had this conversation a long time ago, where a tear-stricken Zijun told him to take a chance or he’ll regret it. 

It was after his free skate in Helsinki. He had skated the best skate of his career, earning him personal bests and a high chance of a Top 10 finish. If he gets into the Top 10, the Philippines will earn two spots for the Olympics, the first in history. Michael knew they didn’t have another skater to send, but he welcomed the accomplishment nonetheless. 

He stayed in the green room until he was taken over by Denis (in first), Shoma (in second), and Han (in third). As soon as he stepped out of the locker room after changing into something more comfortable, Zijun was there, waiting for him, pacing back and forth. 

When Michael approached her, she told him she liked him. 

And Michael’s heart had stopped, but not in the same way as Zijun would probably feel. And he shook his head and said, “I’m sorry. I like someone else.” 

Tears started to form in Zijun’s eyes, but she managed to ask, “It’s Yuzuru, isn’t it?” 

Michael heaved a sigh, and nodded. “Yes.” 

“I knew it.” Zijun laughed, though tears were streaming down her eyes. “I had a hunch, but I had to try, you know? Because we’ve been close for so long, and I hoped that somehow you’ll like me back.” 

“I’m sorry.” Michael hesitated in reaching for Zijun’s hand, but he did, anyway. 

Zijun shook her head and smiled. “Don’t be sorry for telling what you really felt.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis. “Now I’m more worried about when you’re gonna say something to Yuzuru.” 

“I—” Michael felt his face burning as he let go of Zijun’s hand. “I don’t have any plan on telling him …” 

"Why not?" Zijun dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. "You've obviously liked him for a long time. You _have_ to tell him!” 

“I can’t! I don’t think he likes me back!” 

“Michael Christian Martinez!” Zijun gasped, hands on her hips. “I just told you I liked you and you rejected me! What makes you think this is any different?” 

Michael opened his mouth to retort, but what did he have to say against that when he knew it was true? He didn’t know when the lines blurred between friendship and admiration into something more, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. Yuzuru was always out of his league. There were other people out there who could be equal to Yuzuru, people who aren’t him. His fists clenched at the thought. 

The silence was interrupted when Zijun’s phone beeped. “Han’s looking for us,” she said in a low voice. “Last group’s starting the warmup.” 

The night ended with Yuzuru winning his second World title, and Michael couldn’t stop the tears springing to his eyes when a tear-stricken Yuzuru stood atop the podium, clutching the gold medal around his neck. The winners did a victory lap, and their eyes met when Yuzuru skated by his seat. Suddenly, something clicked—a resolve Michael didn’t know he had. 

Zijun was right. He had to tell Yuzuru. 

Finding Yuzuru that night was easier said than done. He couldn’t find him because of the winners’ press conference, and he’d be bombarded by more journalists and fans afterwards. Michael himself found himself more occupied than usual—signing autographs, having his photo taken, having journalists ask him countless questions—that he plopped down his bed a little close to midnight. 

He tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. His mother had already fallen asleep, so he decided to get up, grab the keys on his mother’s end desk, and headed out for a walk. It was two in the morning. He was pretty sure fans wouldn’t be lurking around this time; they’d either be asleep or out celebrating somewhere. 

He found himself in the hotel balcony—he didn’t want to stray away from the hotel, anyway. The lights were dim, and Michael could make out a figure sitting near the edge of the balcony. He hesitated on getting inside, but a slight shuffle on the ground caused the other person to freeze and look over his shoulder. 

His heartbeat stopped when he saw Yuzuru. “Hey,” he said, smiling. Yuzuru was glowing despite the exhaustion, and the energy was infectious. 

“Hey, Yuzuru,” Michael said, blinking. “What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you the same thing.” 

“Fair enough.” Michael shrugged. “Mind if I sit down next to you?” 

Michael laughed nervously. He always regarded Yuzuru as a senior, someone who he looks up to, that it was difficult to stop being so formal around him, even if they became closer last season. He took a seat next to Yuzuru, the dim lights of the city taking his breath away. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Me either.” Yuzuru’s gaze was still on the view. “Congratulations tonight.” 

“I should be the one congratulating you, World Champion! I was planning on being in the Top 10, but …” Michael sighed. He was a few points short of a Top 10 finish, and it was slightly disappointing on his part. 

“Are you kidding me?” He felt Yuzuru’s gaze on him, probably in disbelief. “You went up from 19th to 11th! You had the best skate of your career, and you got the Philippines two spots for the Olympics. That’s something to be proud of!” 

“If only the Philippines has someone else to send …” Michael paused, then frowned as he remembered the possible candidate for the second spot. “On second thought …” He laughed, and Yuzuru laughed along with him. 

They spent the rest of the late morning looking out at the view. The chilly gust of wind brushed past them, and Michael couldn’t help but shift closer to Yuzuru. He felt Yuzuru shifting close to him as well until their arms touched. Michael could have sworn he felt a slight spark, but that must be the friction of fabric against fabric. 

At that moment, everything seemed to click. He was already bent on telling Yuzuru after the victory ceremony; it was just a matter of when. And right now, it felt like the right time. Zijun was right; if he won’t be able to tell how he felt, he might as well explode right then and there. 

He took a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Hey, Yuzuru …?” 

Just as he said that, Yuzuru also blurted out “Hey, Michael …” The two paused and stared at each other before bursting into laughter. 

“I was planning to say something weird that happened today,” Michael said once the laughter had died down. “But you go first.” 

“No, it’s okay, you go first,” Yuzuru insisted. 

Michael took a deep breath. He hadn’t exactly practiced for this, so he wondered how he should confess. Should he tell a story then segue it to a confession? Or should he tell him outright? Or … 

His mouth opened, and he said, “After my free skate, Zijun told me she liked me.” 

It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but Yuzuru would be interested, right? Then he could say that all this time, it wasn’t Zijun who he liked that way, but him. 

He was supposed to ramble on when Yuzuru’s phone rang. His heart sank as the older one fished the phone out of his pocket, and Michael could recognize Yuzuru’s mother on the other line. Yuzuru said something he couldn’t understand aside from a “Yes” before ending the call. 

“Your mom?” Michael asked, his heart sinking. When Yuzuru nodded, he added, “Can’t you stay for ten more minutes? I was getting to the good part.” _Don’t go. I have to tell you._

“I’d love to, but Mom wants me in bed right now, or she’s dropping me in the gala.” Yuzuru sighed as he got up. “Sorry about that. Maybe we should talk about it some other time. There’s no rush, right?” 

“R-Right …” Michael frowned, but he stood up, too. Suddenly, he felt all the energy zapping away from him, his hope of confessing lost. “See you in the banquet?” 

“Sure. See you!” Yuzuru raised a hand and waved at Michael before running out of the balcony. 

Michael watched as Yuzuru disappeared from sight before leaning against the handrails and looking up at the night sky, defeated. 

“Michael? Hey, Michael!” 

Michael blinked, and the next thing he knew, he was back in his apartment. Zijun was frowning at him, looking concerned. “Hey, where did you drift off to?” she asked. 

“O-Oh, uh … the past, I guess. That one time I almost confessed to Yuzuru.” 

“Oh, right.” Zijun nodded in recollection. “You didn’t get a chance to confess after that, right?” 

Michael tried, to be honest, but the odds were against him. He couldn’t get Yuzuru alone, in competitions they shared, in the banquets afterward, and even in group outings. As usual, Yuzuru felt unreachable, and when he lost his final chance after the banquet in Pyeongchang, Michael chose to give up. 

“I told you, you should have just went out with me,” Zijun remarked with a glint in her eye. “It would be easier for your heart that way.” 

Michael laughed at that. “We tried, but it didn’t work, remember?” 

“I know, but it was fun while it lasted.” Zijun laughed. “But anyway, are you planning to tell Yuzuru now? Or anytime soon?” 

Michael thought about it. He had at least a few more weeks until his assistant coaching stint will end. He had no idea if he’ll pursue this permanently or go back to Manila. And either way, Yuzuru will start being busy with internship and school again. He couldn’t possibly wait for another year, or more. 

He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.” 

He has to take this chance. Or else, he might never have another chance again. 

A week later, he had just gotten home from Jingu Gaien when Yuzuru called him. “I’m free!” he almost but yelled on the other line, but Michael couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at how carefree Yuzuru sounded. 

“Congratulations! How was the exam?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it! I wanna celebrate! You free tomorrow? Kanako recommended me this place! But we have to be there in the morning!” 

Yuzuru’s enthusiasm was infectious; that, or Michael had just recalled a moment with Yuzuru years ago that made him nostalgic. “Sure, let’s go tomorrow,” he said, then added, “I think I might need to go to the rink tomorrow to drop off something, but it won’t take long.” 

“I’ll meet you in the rink then! The place is near there anyway.” 

“… What exactly is this place?” 

“Just the park near the rink! Let’s go on a picnic, lounge around, stuff like that.” 

A picnic in the park felt so much like a date, but Michael was quick to quash that feeling. It was a no-frills celebration after a difficult two weeks, nothing more, nothing less. “Sounds great.” 

“Great! See you tomorrow?” 

“Definitely.” 

Michael stared at his phone as soon as the call ended. His heart started beating faster, as he remembered his conversation with Zijun, faster as he thought of what will happen tomorrow. 

Tomorrow. 

Maybe he’ll finally get his chance.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Yuzuru_ **

Yuzuru opened his eyes when he felt sunlight streaming out of his dorm window. He sat up on his bed, his mind strangely clear. It was the best sleep he had in months, now that he thought about it. Then he realized that he was officially on break for the school year, and that put a grin to his face. 

His grin widened when his phone beeped and he saw the caller ID. Michael left a message. _“I’m in the rink right now! Let me know when you’re on your way! (I made sandwiches!) ^-^”_

Yuzuru checked the time in his phone and realized he needed to get ready and prepare the things they needed for the picnic. A quick shower and an agonizing moment of choosing what to wear, then a rush-packing of picnic sheets, garbage bags, and paper cups later, and he was ready to go. 

Michael was chatting with Coach Oyama in the lobby when he arrived. The younger one brightened up as soon as he entered, and Yuzuru couldn’t resist beaming as he approached. “Hey,” he greeted. “Good morning, sensei,” he added, bowing at the coach. 

“How are you, Yuzuru?” Coach Oyama asked. “I heard you just finished your final exams.” 

“Yeah.” Yuzuru nodded. “I have at least a month’s worth of vacation before we start the next school year.” 

“That’s good. Will you be free in helping around in the rink?” Coach Oyama chuckled. “Michael is an amazing assistant coach, of course, but the kids would really love to have you around.” 

“Of course, I’d love to!” Yuzuru replied almost instantly. “Well …” He looked at Michael and smiled sheepishly. “If the assistant coach wants an assistant around, I guess it’s okay for me …” 

“What are you talking about? I’d love to have you around!” Michael laughed, his cheeks suddenly turning pink. “The kids will, too.” 

The butterflies in his stomach fluttered like crazy, but Yuzuru was quick to manage his expectations. Of course, Michael would love to have him around to help him out with the kids. It couldn’t have meant anything else. 

“Well.” Coach Oyama cleared his throat. “I understand you two have somewhere to go to?” When Michael nodded, he added, “I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“Yes, sensei.” Michael gave a quick bow and followed Yuzuru out of the rink. “So, picnic?” 

“Yeah, let’s go!” 

They bought iced coffee in the nearby Lawson. Yuzuru spread the picnic sheet under the tree near the lake, and leaned against the trunk. They caught up on life since Yuzuru almost became a hermit due to finals. Michael was excited to talk about Nobuo and Yuki’s progress, and he was getting more confident that they could be in the Top 10, if not in the podium. 

“Did you know?” By this time, Michael had sat up from his previous position of lying down and shifted next to Yuzuru. “Mao and Yuna are having another showdown.” 

Yuzuru sat up straighter, almost choking on his sandwich. He hadn’t heard of Mao and Yuna in the same sentence since after Sochi. “They’re in an invitational competition?” he asked. 

“No.” Michael chuckled. “Mao is coaching another girl competing in Junior Worlds—Megumi? Yuna’s coaching Young You. You remember her, right? The one who beat Soyoun in Nationals years ago?” 

“Oh, her …” Yuzuru vaguely remembered Junhwan telling him about her before. 

“Anyway, it’s a common joke that people are now watching Junior Worlds because of Mao and Yuna, and not because of Megumi and Young. They’re now creating hype around the coaches, not the skaters.” Michael laughed, and Yuzuru laughed along with him. 

“This is something I have to watch, then.” Yuzuru realized he hadn’t watched any figure skating competition in a long time. The last time he watched one was the ladies’ free skate in Pyeongchang, and probably a bit of Worlds after that. 

“Let’s watch together! Zijun and I used to do it. We’d get some snacks, then spend ten-plus hours just watching skating.” 

_Zijun._ Memories of sitting in the balcony in Helsinki caused his insides to twist. Based on Michael’s stories, the two were still close, if not closer. Then again, it was Zijun who was always by Michael’s side while he … disappeared. 

“Yuzuru? Yuzuru, you okay?” 

Yuzuru blinked, and he looked at Michael, whose eyebrows are furrowed. “Sorry …” he said, his cheeks heating up. “Just thought of something, that’s all.” 

“Thought of what?” 

Yuzuru gulped. He had plans of telling Michael how he felt, but not right now. He was planning on telling in the Team Japan reunion, of which … he realized … he hasn’t asked Michael to be his Plus One yet. 

“Actually … Kanako told me Team Japan is gonna have a reunion this weekend. And I’m finally attending it.” 

Michael brightened up. “That’s great! Everyone misses you.” 

“I miss them, too.” Yuzuru scratched the back of his head and took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m required to have a Plus One, and …” Another deep breath. “And I was wondering if you’d like to come along with me?” 

Michael blinked. “Me?” The sound came out more as a squeak, and Yuzuru would think it would be so cute, if his own heart weren’t beating any faster. “Well …” Michael’s gaze darted to the lake for a couple of seconds, before looking at Michael and grinning. “Sure, depends if I’m free on that day.” 

Yuzuru almost mentally pumped his fist in the air, but Michael added: “On one condition.” 

“Huh?” 

Michael finished his sandwich first, as if contemplating on whether to tell whatever it was he’s about to tell Yuzuru. But he spoke, anyway, before Yuzuru could prod it out of him. 

“The kids are having an ice show in two weeks. Would you like to be the guest star?” 

Coach Oyama had invited him to be a guest in his previous class’ ice shows, but he had always turned the invitation down. Not that he wasn’t interested, but he didn’t want to steal the spotlight for the kids. That, and he didn’t have the time to choreograph something; Jeffrey and Shae-Lynn had taught him a few things so he could come up with his own programs when he isn’t in Canada, but he’d rather not skate than present something half-baked. 

“I can choreograph you!” Michael volunteered. “Well, I learned a thing or two from Nikolai back then … I think that’s enough. And no one will know, not even the kids.” 

The offer was tempting, but … “It’s been a long time since I last skated a full program. I’m not sure I’ll be the same Yuzuru Hanyu as everyone expected me to be.” 

“And you don’t have to be,” Michael told him. His hand was about to reach for his, but he stopped midway. “Just skate.” 

_Just skate._ Those were Brian’s exact words before he had taken off for his free skate in Pyeongchang, when the pressure of winning another Olympic gold medal was so crippling that Yuzuru had been so scared of touching the surface that made him feel free. 

“So …” Michael broke the silence. “Am I gonna give you some time to think about it?” 

Yuzuru shook his head. “No, I’ll do it. My choreography is in good hands, after all.” 

It turned out Michael was free on that day, and Yuzuru tried not to make his relief show. Now that the invitation was out of the day, he only had one thing to worry about. 

How he’ll tell Michael what he felt. 

Kanako texted him the details of the reunion that night. Venue: Bills in Tokyu Plaza, 6p.m. Smart casual. Nobu, Dai, and Takeshi shouldered the bill, so there was no need to pay for anything. 

_“Don’t forget to bring Michael, okay? ;)”_ Kanako added, and Yuzuru would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t beaming widely. 

_“I’m bringing Michael. I’m planning to tell him sometime during the party, or after.”_

Yuzuru had barely put his phone down when it started ringing. When he answered, Kanako squealed at him that he had to put his phone away for a couple of seconds. “Are you trying to make me deaf?” he almost yelled. 

“Sorry!” Kanako said, though she didn’t really sound like it. “It’s just that—this is a long time coming, right? I’m so excited for you!” 

“Wish I could share your excitement.” Yuzuru sighed as he leaned against the wall by his bed. 

“Hey, I know it’s hard, but at least you’ll get it out of your chest!” 

“Doesn’t make it easier.” 

“Look at it this way—if you don’t tell Michael, I will. Anyway, sweet dreams!” And before Yuzuru could get a chance to retort, she hung up. 

Yuzuru swore as he stared at his phone screen, then buried his face in his pillow in an attempt to calm himself down. Several scenarios were running in his mind as to how the confession should go, but to be honest, he didn’t know how this was going to end up. He only wanted one outcome, but he didn’t know if it was going to happen. 

The wait for the reunion was unbearable, but Yuzuru tried to forget about it for the day. He tried to help Michael and Coach Oyama in the rink. He found himself having fun with the kids again, who keep asking him to skate his old programs again. Michael would skate some of his old programs, too, and sometimes it felt like they were young again. 

When the kids have gone home, it would be the two of them stayed behind for a bit, just to discuss choreography. “So,” Michael said, “got any music in mind for your exhibition?” 

Yuzuru had thought about it the whole day yesterday. It wasn’t easy choosing music before, and it was no exception this time around. “I narrowed down to one song.” He opened the music player from his phone, plugged in his earphones, and handed one bud to Michael. 

Michael was nodding in approval as the entire song played. “I like this,” he said, a smile crossing his face. “I think we can make this work.” 

Yuzuru sighed in relief. “So we start choreography tomorrow?” 

“Maybe after the reunion.” Michael grinned as he stood up, a sign that they should get going. 

The next day, they spent the day teaching the kids before going their separate ways to get changed. They ended up meeting again in Harajuku Station before walking to their destination. The area was alive with lights and chattering people, their hands full of shopping bags. 

“I just realized,” Michael spoke as they walked the crossroad, “I’ve never done exploring since I was there.” 

“I never did any exploring since I started studying for med school,” Yuzuru admitted. “Maybe we should do that before you leave.” 

“Yeah.” A smile crept to Michael’s face. “I’d like that a lot.” 

They heard a squeal from a distance, and when they looked to the direction of the squeal, Rika was running towards them. Yuzuru wondered how she could run in those heels, but those were soon forgotten as she enveloped him in a hug. “Oh my god, senpai! It’s been so long!” When she pulled away, she looked at Michael and squealed again, hugging the younger one, too. “Michael! When was the last time we saw each other?” 

“Pyeongchang? I don’t know …” Michael grinned. “How are you, Rika-chan?” 

“I’m great! I’m Nagakubo-sensei’s assistant coach now!” 

“Amazing! So you work with Sota?” 

“Yeah! I order him around.” Rika laughed as if that itself was a major accomplishment. “Anyway, you’re with Yuzuru-senpai for the reunion?” 

“Yeah,” Michael said, blinking. “Where’s your Plus One?” 

It was Rika’s turn to blink. “I don’t have one? I don’t think it’s required …” 

Yuzuru swore under his breath. He should have known Kanako would make him think bringing someone else along was required. He sighed. “I’m not complaining about my companion …” He grinned at Michael, who was looking at him in confusion. “Let’s go?” 

They took the elevator to the seventh floor, where they were greeted with “Welcome back, Team Japan!” in a tarpaulin by the door. As soon as he opened the door, he heard a squeal he could recognize was Nobu’s. Soon, he was being headlocked by the older one, and suddenly he was also surrounded by Daisuke and the two Takas, and everything felt familiar. 

“Lookie here!” Daisuke exclaimed, ruffling his hair. “Our baby decided to finally show up at our Team Japan reunion!” 

“I’m not a baby, excuse you, Uncle Dai,” Yuzuru scoffed, even though the grin on his face was betraying him. “But it’s great to be back.” 

“How are you, kid?” Nobu asked, a hand around his shoulder. “Heard from Kana-chan you’re gonna be a doctor!” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna focus on sports medicine, though.” 

“You better study hard! My kids look up to you, you know? More than their own father.” Nobu made a pretend sniff, then yelped when Kanako suddenly hit him on the back of the head. “Oi, Kana-chan! Respect your elders!” 

“Not when the elders are embarrassing me.” Kanako rolled her eyes before hooking her arm around Yuzuru’s, beaming. “Hey, you! I’m glad you came!” 

“Rika told me we’re not required to bring someone else,” Yuzuru said, free hand on his hip while Kanako waved off Daisuke and Nobu. 

“Oh, really?” Kanako batted her eyelashes. Yuzuru knew too well that she was feigning innocence. “I must have misheard Nobu-senpai, then. You know, he’s married and Taka-senpai’s married, and Dai-senpai is dating someone, so—” When Yuzuru glared at her, she shrugged. “So I’m a scheming best friend. You’re supposed to be used to it. Now go to your date! I’ll go look for Mao-senpai and Akiko-senpai!” 

Yuzuru found Michael chatting with Shoma and Sota as soon as Kanako left him. Sota’s eyes widened, and his jaws dropped as he approached. It was Shoma who calmly waved at him. “Senpai!” he called. 

“Hey, you two!” Yuzuru couldn’t contain his excitement as he patted Shoma on the back and gave a frozen Sota a hug. “It’s been a while. How are you?” 

“I should be the one asking you that, senpai!” Sota said, finally remembering how to speak. “We didn’t hear from you after Pyeongchang!” 

Yuzuru laughed nervously, switching his gaze towards Michael, who already had a glass of iced tea in his hand. “Sorry for disappearing on you like that.” 

“It’s okay.” Michael shrugged. “Everyone missed you.” 

By that time, Akiko hovered over them, making sure they had food and drinks, like the mother hen that she was. Eventually, Yuzuru found himself stuffed with food and alcohol shoved towards his direction (by Daisuke and Nobu, obviously), but suddenly familiar faces were approaching him and talking to him like before. It felt great that, even if he disappeared, he wasn’t forgotten. 

Michael stuck with Shoma and Sota, so Yuzuru decided to stick with them, too. After all, he didn’t want Michael to feel left out, even if he was chatting with Shoma and Sota about Nobuo and Yuki. 

He didn’t know how the conversation shifted to Zijun, but he felt a strong punch to the gut when he heard her name. It was Shoma who started the conversation. 

“So, Michael, how are you and Zijun? Still together?” 

Confusion crossed Michael’s face, and he frowned. “Huh?” he said. “Zijun and I dated a couple of times, but we weren’t really _together_.” 

“Really?” Shoma blinked, as if everything he knew changed in that instant. “But … you guys are always together …” 

“Because we’re friends?” 

“Yeah, but I’ve always known they’re just friends,” Sota pointed out, as confused as Michael was. 

“Oh …” Shoma scratched his chin, trying to digest this revelation. “Well, I guess I thought wrong all these years.” 

_Me too,_ Yuzuru wanted to say. He remembered what Michael had told him back in Helsinki, when Zijun told Michael she liked him. Looking back, he didn’t get to hear the rest of the story because he knew he walked out. And he felt stupid for holding on to that thought for so long. 

“Hey.” Kanako was suddenly right beside him, looking amused. Michael had accompanied Sota to get a drink for Shoma. Realization suddenly crossed Yuzuru, and she laughed. “Yeah, I knew about Michael and Zijun.” 

“I’ve spent nights agonizing over this with you. How come you never told me?” Yuzuru asked through gritted teeth. 

“You never asked, idiot!” Kanako laughed and patted Yuzuru’s cheek. “Come on, cheer up. At least now there’s a faint glimmer of hope, right?” 

Yuzuru ignored that. Even though he learned that Michael and Zijun were never together in the first place, hope is dangerous. 

“So, how are you going to tell him?” 

Yuzuru was about to tell her he doesn’t know yet, but he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He craned his neck and looked around for the source of his voice, and his eyes widened as he spotted someone he didn’t expect to be there— 

“Javi?” 

The last time he saw Javier Fernandez was on his last day in the Toronto Cricket Club, a couple of weeks after Pyeongchang. Yuzuru flew to Japan after a fourth-place finish and attended interviews and other sponsor appearances before flying back to Canada to pack his bags and leave the place he had called home for the past six years. Javier (who had just married Miki two days ago) was packing his bags, too, and they both went to the cricket club for the last time in their competitive careers. 

The Javier Fernandez in front of him had his hand around Miki Ando’s waist, his face brightening up, his free hand waving. Yuzuru had almost forgotten his manners and had sprinted to his former training mate’s direction, where they shared a hug. He found himself laughing, even if he didn’t really know why, but Javier was laughing, too, so he guessed it’s okay. 

The next thing he knew, he and Javier had occupied one table, talking about everything they could come up with. Yuzuru wasn’t able to share much apart from med school and helping Michael in the rink. Javier talked about Miki and family life, Himawari now nine years old, and another one on the way in August; about coaching; about Brian organizing a cricket club reunion sometime this year. 

“I’d like to go, but …” Yuzuru whipped up his schedule for next school year in his head and cringed. “Well, if it’s in the summer, I probably _can_ go …” 

“Brian will definitely adjust to your schedule,” Javier said. “You’re the only one we’re waiting for, you know.” 

“I’ll definitely come this time around! I missed you guys.” 

“Good.” Javier’s hand hovered on his cheeks, a common gesture of endearment between them. “Miki has been wondering where my mistress went.” 

“Ha ha.” Yuzuru scoffed and lightly shoved Javier. It was an inside joke that wouldn’t die down. “But I’m really glad to see you, Javi.” 

“Me, too. Now …” Javier gazed around furtively before lowering his voice, a tinge of mischief in his eyes, “how are you and Michael? I see he’s your date.” 

Yuzuru laughed nervously, his peripheral vision finding Michael, who was now chatting with Satoko. Satoko must have commented something funny for Michael to throw back his head and laugh, the eventual smile that followed showing his gums. Javier chuckled, causing his face to turn red. “Isn’t it funny how we managed to meet again? I had my feelings buried after I thought I’d be possibly rejected in Helsinki, but when I saw him again, it was like a waterfall.” 

“The universe decided to give you a second chance,” Javier chuckled again. “Better make the most of it.” 

“How did you do it, Javi?” He looked at Michael again, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them, like a candlelight-like dream he couldn’t quite place. “How do you tell someone you like them?” 

“When I told Miki, it was in casual passing, then the paparazzi got hold of us.” Javier shuddered at the memory. “But if you’re looking for a tried-and-tested formula, there’s none. Just be honest about your feelings, and that should do it.” 

Being honest … Easier said than done. But it had to be done. 

“Well, there’s my cue. Keep in touch, Yuzu. I’ll see you later.” Javier patted him on the cheek once more before getting up. 

Yuzuru frowned at Javier in confusion before glancing to his right, his heartbeat becoming erratic. Michael had just slid next to him, red in the face. “Did you drink too much?” he asked, the corner of his lip tugging up. 

“Not too much, but probably a little more than my limit.” Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I can still remember what will happen tonight, so I’m good.” 

“Okay.” The air around them suddenly felt stifling, but Yuzuru knew this was going to be the moment. He should tell Michael, right now. “Michael?” 

Michael blinked, eyes slightly glazed, but his gaze was enough for Yuzuru to stop breathing. “Hmm?” 

He took a deep breath. This is it. “Michael, I—” 

“Senpai!” Suddenly, Shoma had approached them, eyes wide and pointing to someone who had just entered. “Tanaka-senpai’s here!” 

“Huh?” Yuzuru suddenly felt himself being pulled up and dragged to the entrance, where Keiji was, sure enough. He was happy to see an old friend, but at the same time, he wanted to bemoan the lost opportunity of telling Michael. 

_Darn it, Shoma._

(From his peripheral vision, Kanako had walked over to Shoma and whacked him on the head.)


	8. Chapter 8

**_Michael_ **

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his bed, sunlight streaming through his window. His head pounded harshly as soon as he sat up, and he groaned as he rubbed his temple. He realized he was still wearing the clothes he wore from the Team Japan reunion, and he tried to remember what happened as soon as he sat down after drinking more than he should have.

Fortunately, he could still remember the events. Yuzuru had hovered over him, worried and ready to drag him home. Michael had insisted that he could go home in one piece and that Yuzuru should catch up some more with his former teammates. But Yuzuru had been insistent, and they had taken the cab home.

Speaking of Yuzuru … Michael took a look around his apartment and found Yuzuru sleeping on the couch. He had an arm over his eyes, his mouth parting open as his chest heaved up and down as he slept. Michael couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Yuzuru woke up just as he had set the plates on the kitchen counter, his hair disheveled. “Hey,” he greeted groggily. “How are you? Sorry I stayed over. I missed dorm curfew.”

Michael grinned at how adorable a sleepy Yuzuru looked. “It’s okay,” he said. “I had a headache, but otherwise I’m fine.” He went and set the bowl of rice and the plate of spam and eggs on the coffee table. “So, breakfast?”

Yuzuru was very curious about the breakfast, even more curious about using spoons and forks instead of chopsticks. Still, breakfast was a relaxed affair, with Yuzuru talking about what happened the rest of the reunion after he blacked out. The silence that ensued was comfortable as they sat side-by-side, arms touching. It was something that Michael had gotten used to, and he welcomed this level of comfort.

“Excited for choreography tomorrow?” Michael asked. By then, breakfast was over, and Yuzuru had taken over washing the dishes while he leaned against the counter.

“Yeah …” Yuzuru said, and Michael never saw his face brighten up that much. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll live up to your expectations, but …”

“I expect you to do what I say and skate my choreography well. That’s all I ask.” Michael handed Yuzuru a towel as soon as he was done washing the dishes.

“I’ll do my best.” Yuzuru placed the towel on the counter. “Anyway, I gotta go. Keiji and Shoma actually want an extended reunion, and we’re having dinner in Shinjuku. I might need more sleep, too.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded. He was planning on spending the day sleeping, too, and maybe working on choreography for the ice show, Yuzuru’s included. “Tell Keiji I’m sorry I wasn’t sober enough to catch up with him.”

“You can always come with us, you know.”

“Maybe next time. I still have a lot of things to do for the ice show.”

“Deal.” Yuzuru chuckled, taking a quick look at the entrance hall mirror before putting on his shoes. “Anyway, don’t miss me too much. See you tomorrow!”

“Miss you …?” Michael’s voice came out as a squeak, caught off-guard by what Yuzuru said. But before he could even come up with a reply, Yuzuru had chuckled again, waved, and closed the door on his way out.

He messaged Zijun about this as soon as he had calmed down, somewhat. Zijun was quick to call him on Skype, and suddenly, Jinseo, Junehyoung, and Han were also online for a group video call. Michael had to tell the story all over again, and had to back away from his laptop when Jinseo and Junehyoung suddenly started hooting.

“You know what?” Jinseo said after he and Junehyoung had quieted down, somewhat. Michael hadn’t answered yet, but Jinseo spoke again, “Yuzuru likes you, too. I’m pretty sure I watched enough romance dramas to be sure that he likes you back!”

Michael wanted to laugh. It was a delusion he entertained when he was young, but not this time. Life isn’t a scene from a drama, and no matter how hard he wished, he had no idea what would happen if he told Yuzuru what he felt.

“That totally isn’t helping Michael,” Zijun said with a roll of her eyes. “But seriously, when are you planning to tell Yuzuru?”

Michael closed his eyes and sighed. He had a few more weeks left until he flies back to Manila, and if he keeps his silence, he knew he’ll never have another chance.

He needs to act fast.

Having Yuzuru around was easy. He was starting to drop by the rink almost every day to help teach the kids. And while it was also easy to get Yuzuru alone, his focus was on either teaching the kids, helping Coach Oyama with Nobuo and Yuki, and organizing the ice show. As much as he wanted to confess, it had to take a back seat.

The ice show, at least, was something he was looking forward to the most. Coach Oyama had given him the liberty to direct and choreograph the entire thing. The kids will do some group numbers, outstanding students get solo parts, and Nobuo and Yuki will have their own programs to skate to (choreography care of Shoma). Coach Oyama had convinced him to skate, too, and thank god at least he has something from a previous ice show he could use.

As for Yuzuru … Skating a new program with much fluidity was going to take some time. They only had two weeks until the ice show, and Michael didn’t expect Yuzuru to be the same Yuzuru in Sochi or Pyeongchang. But Michael could see the glimpse of brightness in Yuzuru’s eyes, the same brightness he saw in Osaka, and he knew the thrill of skating a new program was back.

And that was enough.

Soon enough, it was the last day of class—they’ll be having one last rehearsal before the ice show—and his thoughts were interrupted by someone setting down a cup of iced coffee on his table. When he looked up from the papers he was supposed to be looking at, Yuzuru was smiling at him fondly, and he felt his heart doing somersaults. “Thanks,” he said, managing a smile as he grabbed the iced coffee.

“You okay?” Yuzuru asked, taking a seat from across him. “You were spacing out a while ago.”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing serious.” Michael shook his head, taking a sip of the iced coffee; the rush of energy was definitely something that he needed. “Just have a lot of feelings.”

“Like what?”

“Relieved, because it’s the last day of class. Nervous, because of the ice show. Worried, because of Junior Worlds.”

“Ah.” Yuzuru nodded in understanding. “I’m no coach, but if it helps, you’ve done everything you can. It’s up to the kids. And in my case, me, for the ice show.”

“You better do your best.” Michael grinned, sitting up straighter when the door opened to reveal one of the staff, telling them that the kids were ready for one final rehearsal. “Well …” He stood up. “Ready?”

Yuzuru stood up, holding the door open for him. “Ready.”

Michael had to admit, it was sad to hold the last class for now. The kids were focused on rehearsals, but more focused on taking pictures and talking to their friends, who they won’t meet again until the break is over. In the end, they gave up and went along with taking pictures with the kids and having a short question-and-answer segment, where the kids could ask him and Yuzuru about anything—from skating, to coaching, and to other things.

“Michael-sensei!” one of the kids piped up. “Are you still going to be our coach next session?”

He and Coach Oyama haven’t fully discussed about it yet, but the older one had been dropping signs of work “Next season”, so he allowed himself to be optimistic. “It’s not yet set in stone,” he started, “but if I had my way, I’d love to be your coach again.” He grinned when the kids cheered. His hands drifted towards his watch, which showed that it was nearing dismissal time, and the staff had to resurface the ice for the show. “I guess we have room for one more question, maybe for Hanyu-sensei?”

“I have one!” one of the kids at the back exclaimed. “Hanyu-sensei! Do you have a girlfriend?”

At that instant, the kids roared into laughter, and even Yuzuru’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, his cheeks red. It was only when the laughter had died down did he answer. “I don’t,” he said. “When I was competing, a special someone was the least of my worries. When I started studying, it was pushed to the back of my mind, too.”

“But.” Yuzuru paused, and suddenly he was looking at him. “Well, I guess you can say someone has been in my thoughts these days.”

_Someone?_ Michael found himself drowning out the cheering of the kids as Yuzuru continued to look at him. It couldn’t be … could it?

Soon, one parent asked for one more group picture, and after more signing and photo-ops with the mothers, it was over. Michael followed the kids and the parents to the lobby for some small chit-chat before sending them away for lunch.

Yuzuru had dragged him to his usual breakfast place, now serving lunch, obviously. He got to know the owner—fondly called Old Man—and his daughter, who did not hesitate to ask for an autograph just as she set down their tonkatsu bento.

“Special someone, huh?” Michael couldn’t resist bringing up. “Do I know this person?”

Yuzuru laughed, his cheeks turning red again. “Do I tell you?”

“W-Well … if you want to …” Michael hesitated. As much as he was dying to know … he didn’t want to get his hopes up, then get deflated if a different name came out of Yuzuru’s mouth.

“Maybe later.” Yuzuru stuck his tongue out. “Ice show first.”

Michael was half-relieved, half-deflated. “Okay.”

The rink was only barely filled with people, mostly parents and family, but the ice show was festive nonetheless. Cheers filled the rink during the opening number, louder during some of the group performances. Michael’s chest swelled with pride as he watched the kids, and Nobuo and Yuki, take to the ice. He’d only been here for almost a month, yet he has seen improvement in them; he was glad to have played a part in that improvement.

Suddenly, it was his turn, and it was the kids’ turn to cheer for him. He didn’t have the time to practice for his own program, but hours of practice with Stephane allowed him to move as he liked. Soon, it was raining flowers and plushies, and Michael laughed as the kids skated forward to hug him.

He caught Yuzuru looking at him by the boards, his expression full of wonder. He stopped breathing for a second.

Coach Oyama sat by the sides to introduce a surprise guest, and the audience cheered in surprise as Yuzuru took to the ice. There wasn’t any time to have a costume made, but that was okay, because the skating should suffice.

_I was searching for the things that never change  
I will never forget how you were on that day_

Michael could feel his breath stopping once more as Yuzuru moved, just the way he had told him to. It wasn’t polished (at least, compared to the movements Yuzuru made when he was still competing), but it was genuine, free.

_These feelings I have transcend time  
_ _I just want to meet you now_

Yuzuru struck his final pose, and the crowd rose to their feet. He could see the older one trying to hold back tears, and Michael felt his vision blurring, too. He clapped and cheered the hardest as Yuzuru takes his final bow, receiving flowers and plushies from the kids.

There was one more group number before the finale, and Michael waited by the sides for Yuzuru to finish talking to the other kids. He beamed when the older one approached him, strode as fast as his skates could take him. “That was great!” he exclaimed. “You were really ama—” 

Whatever Michael was about to say next had left him hanging because suddenly Yuzuru’s arms were around him, chin nested on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure whether the erratic beating was coming from his heart or Yuzuru’s—or maybe both of their hearts. 

When Yuzuru pulled away, Michael wanted to say something, anything, maybe to ask if this was a hug out of relief or something else … “I?” was the only word that came out of his mouth. 

Yuzuru’s expression turned from elated to cautious, his gaze fluttering down, maybe to Michael’s parted lips, if he was entertaining his own delusions. The delusions were winning, and Michael closed his eyes— 

“You two!” Coach Oyama had called them, and Michael felt the absence of Yuzuru’s warmth around his waist. The warmth was now on his face, self-conscious to have his boss see whatever was about to happen. The old man, however, looked more amused than shocked. “It’s finale time! They’re waiting for you.” 

“R-Right …” Yuzuru shot him an apologetic look before taking Michael by the hand (strangely soft against his own) and dragging him back to the rink. 

The finale was all kinds of fun, the kids engaging in a jump-off, where they show off more of what they learned. Nobuo landed on his triple axel, and Yuki wowed the crowd with her layback spin. The crowd and the kids started to cheer for the two of them to join the jump-off, of which they obliged. Yuzuru ended up tripling a planned quad toe, cheering when Michael landed his quad toe effortlessly. 

And after one final bow, it was over. 

After the show, they were ushered by the staff to the lobby for a season-end dinner, all Coach Oyama’s treat. Michael felt the fatigue finally setting in, though there was no time to relax, with him being bombarded by parents and students asking for photo ops and autographs. (To be fair, Yuzuru was the spotlight of the entire dinner, and Michael couldn’t find him in the crowd.) He only had time to relax when Coach Oyama dragged him to a corner. 

“The kids and the parents really love you as a coach,” Coach Oyama started. “How would you like to work with me permanently?” 

Michael couldn’t contain his excitement. “I’d like that very much,” he said. 

“We’ll talk about contracts as soon as we get home from Korea,” Coach Oyama added, smiling. “But for now, I’ll see you in two weeks. Go resolve whatever you and Yuzuru have to talk about.” 

“Sensei!” Michael blurted out, cheeks heating up, and Coach Oyama only laughed in reply. 

As soon as the kids and their parents went home, the staff insisted that they go ahead while they clean up. Yuzuru was already waiting outside, bag slung on one shoulder. His smile was a little more restrained as he tilted his head and asked, “Let’s go?” 

The walk home was silent, yet Michael could hear his heart pound frantically in his ears. The image of Yuzuru being a few inches away was still etched in his mind, Yuzuru’s gaze at him when he said he was thinking of someone special … At this point, he felt he was starting to think like Jinseo, trying to put the pieces together and coming up with only one conclusion. But … 

“Michael?” Yuzuru interrupted his thoughts. 

Michael froze on his tracks. “Yeah?” 

“Do you mind if we take a little detour? I just wanna do something.” 

“Oh, okay, I don’t mind.” 

He followed Yuzuru until they reached the park where they had a picnic. The sun had already set, the only dim lights from the lamp posts. Yuzuru had stopped and had turned to face him, smiling sheepishly. 

Michael had watched enough dramas and movies to visualize how a confession would go, but he didn’t exactly know what scenario was going to happen to him. 

But the next few seconds later, it didn’t really matter anymore. 

Because Yuzuru had taken his hand, and looked at him in the eye, looking uncharacteristically nervous before saying, “I like you.” 

And Michael had smiled (or beamed, because his cheeks had started to hurt) and had squeezed his hand before saying, “I like you, too.” 

Yuzuru pulled him in his arms, and Yuzuru felt so warm that Michael wanted to cry. This time, he wrapped his arms around the older one, sighing as he took in this unbelievable moment, that he liked Yuzuru, and Yuzuru liked him back. 

And under the dim lights, when they pulled away from the embrace, it was Michael who leaned in.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Yuzuru_ **

“Flip the pancake over—” 

“I can’t! It’s stuck on the pan!” 

“Scrape it at the bottom—Oh for god’s sake, Yuzuru—” 

The pancake was burnt at the bottom, but otherwise still good enough to eat, at least he reasoned after taking a bite. Michael had shaken his head and had taken over making breakfast, though a kiss on the cheeks was enough to put a smile on his face. 

They had breakfast on the couch, as usual, only this time Yuzuru was cheeky enough to prop his leg over Michael’s, who didn’t mind the least bit. Michael turned on the television, which showed Mezamashi, just in time featuring Nobuo and Yuki in the airport with Coach Oyama in tow. But the feature mostly went to Megumi, who walked in the airport side by side with Coach Mao Asada, and reporters started a heavy feature of Mao and Yuna Kim, which was no surprise. 

“I told you they like the coaches better than the kids,” Michael chuckled. 

“Looks like it.” Yuzuru nodded, imagining all the photographers all over Mao and Yuna instead of the skaters. “You okay, though?” 

“Hmm? Yeah, I guess.” Michael scraped on the last of the pancake bits before setting the plate on the coffee table. “Maybe I’m a little bummed I’m not there with them.” 

“Maybe next year. You’re now assistant coach, right?” 

“Yeah …” 

It had been two days since the confession, and it felt like nothing has changed. They still talk about the same things, confide about whatever they could. Only this time, Yuzuru could hold Michael’s hand, could pull Michael to his arms, and, of course, could kiss him and call him his. 

Liking someone and having that someone like him back felt like being able to land a jump, exhilarating. 

Michael still had a week left in Japan. As soon as Coach Oyama returns from Korea and they talk about the assistant coaching position, he’ll be back in Manila, then back to his schedule of attending ice shows before coming back to Japan. Yuzuru wished he had said something sooner, but he was quick to push that thought away. All he can do right now is to make the most of the time they have before being reunited in god-knows how many months later. 

“So, dinner later?” Yuzuru asked, getting up so he could start washing the dishes. (He was planning on impressing Michael by volunteering to cook, but, well …) “I need to register for next school year, but Kanako recommended this restaurant that we can go to, so I can pick you up after …” 

“Sure.” Yuzuru felt chills as Michael’s hand hovered around his waist as the younger one set his own plate on the sink. “But maybe I should drop by your school instead? I haven’t been there before.” 

“I’d like that.” 

They parted ways, with Yuzuru making a run for the dorm and Michael getting ready to do some errands his mother wanted him to do for her business. Yuzuru was in Keio by 11, meeting his classmates and fellow interns, who looked pleased with their final grades. (He was generally pleased with his own grades, minus his grade for neurology.) Now, it was time to register for their final year in med school, which also included their final assignments for their internship. 

Yuzuru’s registration for classes went smoothly, and he was about to head over to Dr. Hideaki’s office to be advised on his internship when he froze on his tracks as he turned a corner. 

Was his mind playing games or did he just see Shizuka Arakawa walking by? “Senpai?” he couldn’t resist blurting out, causing stares from passersby. 

Shizuka looked over her shoulder, and her face brightened up. The last time Yuzuru had seen her was two years ago, and she hadn’t aged a bit. “Yuzuru!” she said, coming forward to give him a hug. “Just the person I was looking for!” 

“Huh?” Yuzuru blinked. Why was Shizuka looking for him, in the medical department, of all places? 

“Come on, let’s go inside. Hideaki-sensei is waiting for us.” 

Dr. Hideaki? Why was Dr. Hideaki looking for him and Shizuka? Yuzuru didn’t have time to ask because Shizuka had dragged him inside the office. 

Dr. Hideaki was already sitting by his desk, looking amused at Yuzuru, then changing his expression to shake Shizuka’s hand and exchange business cards with her. “Good morning, Hanyu,” he said, as he sat down after offering Shizuka a seat. “Based on your expression, you would like to know why your senior in the sport is with us today.” 

Yuzuru nodded. 

“She gave me this strange proposal. So strange I didn’t really consider it that much until last week.” Dr. Hideaki gestured to Shizuka. “Arakawa-shachou, if you may.” 

Shizuka nodded. “I was supposed to bring this up to you before, but, as you may know, we have been quite preoccupied.” 

Yuzuru nodded again. Shizuka wasn’t there during the Team Japan reunion, Akiko citing something about work. 

“I know I’ve invited you time and again to ice shows, and time and again you’ve rejected the invitation, which I understand—studies come first,” Shizuka said. “But I know that you still love figure skating. Michael told me you help out in the rink, and I heard you were a surprise guest in their ice show.” 

He couldn’t resist smiling at the memory of being in the ice, of having the crowd rise to their feet. “I still love it,” he said. “I mean, this is the reason why I’m in med school, too. As much as I love skating, I know I have so much more to give.” 

“You’ve done so much for the sport,” Shizuka said. “You were the face of men’s figure skating.” 

“A face can be replaced any time. To be in the background, I can help the future faces become better.” 

Shizuka smiled. “Precisely why I proposed to Hideaki-sensei that you spend some time of your internship with us in JSF.” 

Yuzuru’s eyes widened. Was he hearing this correctly? Special internships in the university are unheard of—the medical department wanted their students to be as well-rounded in all disciplines as possible. 

“How about it, Hanyu?” Dr. Hideaki asked, looking amused at his reaction. “You’re one of our very exceptional students. I’ve spoken to the department, and they are willing to go with this proposal.” 

Yuzuru didn’t need to ask more questions. “This is the perfect opportunity,” he said, bowing. “Thank you.” 

“So, you’re gonna be working in JSF next term?” 

“ _Intern_ is the more correct term.” Yuzuru sighed and took a piece of beef from Michael’s bento, the younger one letting him. “I enjoy being an intern in the hospital and all, but JSF …” 

“It’s actually what you wanted.” Michael smiled and intertwined their fingers from underneath the table, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I’m happy for you.” 

“We _both_ got what we both wanted,” Yuzuru pointed out, smiling back. “And I’m proud of you, too.” 

Yuzuru met Michael outside the department building after his talk with Shizuka and Dr. Hideaki. He decided to give Michael an impromptu tour of the campus (or at least, the part of the campus which he knows by heart), breaking the news in between. They settled for lunch in the university cafeteria before taking space in the nearest cafe to relax. 

Michael shook his head. “It’s not over for me yet,” he said. “There’s still Junior Worlds.” 

Yuzuru knew how Michael was restless during the week. He was still in constant communication with Coach Oyama, who would also send him videos of practice. Nobuo fell a couple of times on his triple axel, and Yuki was uncharacteristically popping some of her jumps. Yuzuru knew of all people that a bad practice doesn’t equate to a bad performance in competition, but that didn’t help Michael’s nerves. 

“They’ll be fine,” Yuzuru said. “You did all that you can.” 

That Thursday, Yuzuru had his bags packed to sleep over at Michael’s apartment so they can watch Junior Worlds. He had no idea what Michael did to get the stream to work in Japan, but he wasn’t complaining. Some snacks from the nearby 7-Eleven and some food he and Michael made (more of Michael cooking and Yuzuru playing assistant), they were ready. 

“I’ve never watched any competition from a stream before,” Yuzuru admitted as the two of them got cozy on the couch. 

“After we retired, Zijun and I would stream together and yell at each other during competitions,” Michael related with a chuckle. 

The mention of Zijun’s name would usually rear the green-eyed monster in Yuzuru, but not anymore. “Did you know?” Yuzuru mentioned. He might as well tell Michael about it so they could laugh about it in the future. “I thought you and Zijun were together.” 

Michael groaned and buried his face with his hands. “It’s because of the confession, isn’t it?” he said. “In Helsinki, I was supposed to tell you I rejected Zijun because I liked you, but … obviously it didn’t work out.” 

“That wasn’t exactly a good way to start a confession …” 

“Yeah, I know, but why dwell on that when we’re together now?” Michael peppered light kisses on his cheek for emphasis. 

Yuzuru hummed his approval at that. 

Yuki was set to skate in the fourth group, and so were Megumi and Young You. The camera panned to Mao and Yuna, watching both of their skaters with the same determination Yuzuru remembered seeing them in their own warm-up. Yuki doubled her triple lutz, and he felt Michael sinking bit by bit down the couch. Yuzuru would have laughed if this wasn’t important for Michael. 

Young You skated a flawless program, earning her a 67.52, a personal best. You had pumped her fist in the air while Yuna wore a pleased smile on her face. Megumi, meanwhile, had earned a 66.96, and into second, and he could see Mao squeezing Megumi’s hand in consolation. 

Michael had covered his eyes as soon as Yuki’s name was called, and Yuzuru was quick to hold his hand as they (or, rather, he) watched. Michael managed to pry his hands out when Yuzuru whooped as Yuki landed her triple lutz-triple toe combination, and the rest of the program was flawless. 

He felt Michael relaxing, head sinking to his lap as Yuki and Coach Oyama went to the kiss and cry. Yuki had hugged the huge stuffed bear she was holding and yelled out “Michael-sensei! I did it!” while waving. 

Yuki yelped out when the scores came out—67.07, a personal best by five points. Michael suddenly sat up and pumped his fist in the air, and Yuzuru had pulled him to his arms, as elated as Michael was. 

The ladies’ short program ended up with Yuki in fifth place, with two Russian skaters and You on the Top 3. That Friday, the men’s short program was more nerve-racking, with Nobuo falling on his triple axel. Still, the rest of the program went well, and he received a 72.28, in third. 

“They’re doing great,” Yuzuru told Michael over dinner. They haven’t left the apartment since Thursday unless it was to buy groceries, so Yuzuru took Michael to his favorite ramen store. Michael’s ecstatic demeanor earlier was replaced by something more somber, eyes blankly staring at his ramen. “Hey … nervous again?” 

“Yeah …” Michael tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace. “That’s half of the worries gone, but there’s still the free skate …” 

“Don’t you trust them?” 

“I do!” Michael said quickly. He sighed and leaned against the bench. “It’s a bad habit that I can’t break, I guess. I trust the kids, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I taught them enough …” 

“I don’t know much about coaching,” Yuzuru said, reaching for Michael’s hand from the other side of the table, “but if the coach is starting to doubt themselves, then the kids will start to doubt, too.” He clearly remembered being with Coach Abe, who always patted his back or squeezed his hand before a competition, telling him she believed in him, and he started to believe in himself, too. Back in Toronto, he and Brian had this talk in which Brian told him, “I never doubted you, not even a second.” It was hard to believe that his past coaches had doubted themselves the way Michael doubted himself, but it was their hard work and words of encouragement that helped Yuzuru get to the top, where he aimed to be. 

“You’re right …” Michael sighed again. “I should stop worrying so much. Sorry I had to let it out on you.” 

Yuzuru shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, and he meant it. They’ve only been in this relationship for a week, but Yuzuru wants to be there for Michael, good or bad. 

Michael’s doubts were erased the next two days. Yuki skated a personal best free skate, which put her in fifth overall (Megumi and Young You won silver and bronze, respectively), and Nobuo won a silver medal. Yuzuru felt his chest about to burst when Michael leaned against him, overjoyed and relieved. 

And Yuzuru made the most of their celebration, because in a few days, Michael will be leaving. 

And even though they’ll be seeing each other again, Yuzuru knew the wait will be torturous.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Michael_ **

Michael coursed through Monday like a whole weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now that Junior Worlds is over, there wasn’t much left to do but to wrap up some matters with the rink and with JSF before flying back to Manila. His flight was scheduled to be on that night, but …

Just the thought of being back in Manila gave Michael a sense of reluctance. Years of staying in America for training had always given him a longing to go back, despite the sweltering heat and the terrible traffic, precisely because it’s home. But now … Michael thought he wasn’t ready to go home, just yet.

He had a lot to look forward to here. He has a permanent job as an assistant coach with people he enjoys working with. He has some ice shows lined up in the summer. He has Yuzuru, their relationship just starting and with lots more time to catch up on.

 _“What should I do?”_ he asked his mother, hesitating for a couple of seconds before sending the message over Viber.

 _“Up to you,”_ was his mother’s brisk reply. _“You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”_ Michael found it ironic that before, he used to resist some decisions his mother made for him on the insistence that he was an adult and could make his own. Now that he’s an adult, he needed his mother’s words the most.

 _“If you were me, what would you do?”_ he asked instead.

 _“I’d stay just a bit longer,”_ she replied. _“But eventually I’d have to go back.”_

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, and he almost jumped when Yuzuru walked in. “Get dressed,” he said. “We’re going out.”

“Huh?” Michael blinked. “Going where?”

“Somewhere nice!” Yuzuru said. “Today’s your last day here, right?”

“Well …”

“So we should go exploring! We haven’t done any serious exploring since you arrived, so—”

“Yuzuru—”

“I don’t have an itinerary, but that’s the beauty of exploring, right? We go where the wind takes us—”

“Yuzuru!” Michael laughed when Yuzuru stopped talking. “I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

It was amusing to see Yuzuru’s jaw drop. “W-What?” he asked.

“I’m not leaving tomorrow,” Michael repeated. “I’m rescheduling my flight to Friday.”

“Why? Do you have something else to work on with Oyama-sensei or Arakawa-senpai?”

“Nope.” Michael shook his head. “I wanted to. I want to relax for a bit before I go back to Manila.” He reached for Yuzuru’s hand. “And you’re right. We haven’t done any exploring.”

“Oh.” Yuzuru’s eyes disappeared in crinkles as he smiled, pulling Michael closer. “That’s great! We have more time.”

Michael hummed in approval as Yuzuru pressed his lips against his forehead. “So, where to now, Mr. Tour Guide?”

“Tonight, dinner. Tomorrow, we go where the wind takes us.”

The next day, they set out to explore Tokyo. They didn’t have a set itinerary, though Michael did have a few ideas on where to go. Yuzuru became the designated tour guide, taking Michael’s hand and leading the way.

They had breakfast in Omotesando then took a look at the exhibitions in Nezu Museum. Michael went shopping for souvenirs for his family (and his many godsons in Manila, apparently) in Shibuya, and since every restaurant was full by the time lunch hour came, so they nursed their empty stomachs in a cart selling ramen before heading to Starbucks in the TV Asahi/Tsutaya complex—a good idea because it was a good place for people-watching.

“It’s amazing how I never got to explore Tokyo, even if I studied here for years,” Yuzuru remarked, sipping his coffee.

“Two days isn’t enough,” Michael remarked. “When I come back, we should explore some more.”

Yuzuru’s eyes suddenly flitted towards the view, as if deep in thought. The sun was halfway down the sky, yet there was still more to explore. Not that they were in a hurry. They have a whole week to spend time together, and they have a couple more months before they can see each other again.

Finally, Yuzuru spoke: “Let’s go to Sendai.”

Michael blinked, not sure if he heard right. “What?”

“Let’s go to Sendai,” Yuzuru repeated, amused. “You haven’t been outside Tokyo and Osaka, right?” When Michael nodded, he continued, “I want to show you around my hometown. Bullet trains are pretty expensive, but I usually take an overnight bus …”

Sendai … Yuzuru’s hometown. Now that he thought about it, he doesn’t know that much about Yuzuru. Sure, he had met Yuzuru’s mother and sister before, and he remembered how Yuzuru would talk about the rink where he spent most of his life. Suddenly, he realized there was still so much more to learn about Yuzuru.

So he smiled. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.” And his heart fluttered at the stars that appeared in Yuzuru’s eyes.

They booked a ticket for an overnight bus in Shinjuku Station that same night, and Michael only packed a couple of nights’ worth of clothes. The seats were comfy and roomy enough that Michael could recline it to sleep better, which didn’t happen because Yuzuru couldn’t stop talking about the places he loved to go, the food he loved to eat, and the people he’d like Michael to meet. And Michael listened, of course, though he was sure he had nodded off in the middle of the conversation.

They arrived at Sendai at around five in the morning, and to Michael’s surprise, Yuzuru’s parents were waiting outside. Mrs. Hanyu gave him a hug and Mr. Hanyu shook his hand as soon as they’ve approached. “Look at you!” Mrs. Hanyu exclaimed as she looked at Michael from head to toe. “You’re so mature now! Thank god Yuzuru didn’t give up on you!”

“Mom …” Yuzuru groaned, face red.

“Let’s get you two home. We have breakfast ready,” Mr. Hanyu said, leading the way towards the car. “Michael, I hope Yuzuru told you how amazing his mother’s cooking is.”

Michael grinned. “He always talked about Yumi-san’s cooking for as long as I can remember.”

The Hanyus live in a two-storey house with a small garden patch in the front yard. Everything about the house, inside and outside, was all simple, the mere decorations being photos of Yuzuru and Saya, mostly Yuzuru holding his medals. Yuzuru wasted no time showing him around the living room, the kitchen, and the bedrooms. “Saya got married, so her room is now a guest bedroom, but, uh …” His cheeks turned red. “My room can fit both of us, if you want …”

Michael looked over his shoulder, to see if Yuzuru’s parents are listening in. “If your parents don’t mind, sure,” he said with a shrug.

Breakfast was a glimpse as to how the Hanyu household works. Mr. Hanyu read the morning paper, discussing with Yuzuru about something that happened with the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles. Mrs. Hanyu piled more servings on his plate as soon as he was done, encouraging him to eat more. Sometimes, Mrs. Hanyu’s phone would beep with a message from Saya, asking some tips about dealing with her one-year-old baby. Soon, Mr. Hanyu departed for work, and Mrs. Hanyu insisted that she could wash her dishes just fine and shooed them to Yuzuru’s room.

Yuzuru’s room was bare save for the poster of Evgeni Plushenko by the cabinet. Yuzuru asked him to drop his stuff on his desk, next to his med school books. Next to the desk was a window, where Michael could see the park, the people just beginning to wake up.

“How’d you think of Sendai so far?” Yuzuru wrapped his arms around Michael, chin resting on his shoulder.

“It’s quiet,” Michael sighed, comfortable at Yuzuru’s warmth against his. “I like it here. Thanks for dragging me along.”

“Anytime.”

After a quick nap, Yuzuru wasted no time in showing him around. There was a shrine there, a museum there, and there was this restaurant which serves the best grilled beef tongue. Everywhere they went, Yuzuru was the receiving end of stares and warm greetings that most of the time it took them a while before they could finish exploring.

“You’re like a national hero here,” Michael remarked when they wound up the day in Hirose River, watching the kids fly their kites.

Yuzuru chuckled. “Not really. I’m just this has-been athlete who happens to live here.”

“You’re not a has-been, you’re a legend. At least people still remember you and what you’ve done.”

“Yeah, but take skating away from me, and people won’t remember anything else.” Yuzuru looked at the view from the river, and Michael noticed the change in his mood. “Sometimes, I envy you.”

Michael’s eyes widened. It was hard to believe that he could be the envy of someone. After all, he envied the many things Yuzuru had that he never had during his career as a skater—full support from his federation, a broad network, and a throng of adoring fans. What could he possibly have that Yuzuru would want?

Yuzuru was quick to elaborate. “All people expected from me is to skate, nothing more,” he said. “When Shoma and Sota started to skate better than me, those expectations disappeared. I had to figure out what my life would be after I hang up my skates, but you … You’ve already done so many things even while you’re still skating.”

“But you’re an inspiration to many skaters,” Michael pointed out. “Myself, included.” He laughed sheepishly at the confession.

Yuzuru chuckled again and let their hands intertwine. “But that’s all in the past. At least now, I know that I can still do something for skating.”

They stayed like that until the sun started to set. Yuzuru pulled him up, and there was a hint in his eyes that his tour of Sendai for the day is far from over. “One last stop before we call it a day?” he asked.

One loople ride later, and they reached a building with the words “Ice Rink Sendai” plastered in large letters. Yuzuru had grasped his hand too tightly, but there was no denying the smile on his face as he entered, brightening up as he greeted the staff and spoke to them briefly. It was only when the staff handed him keys and left that Michael got his explanation.

“The rink closes around this time, but they usually give the key to me whenever I train until late at night.” Yuzuru grinned as he held out the keys for emphasis.

“So, you’re going to train here until late at night?” Michael asked, not quite sure what Yuzuru is up to.

Yuzuru tilted his head. “No, but this place is special to me, and I want us to be alone for this.”

The offices were already closed, but Michael could see the shelves and shelves of trophies decorating the short hallway. There were tons of pictures of Yuzuru and Shizuka, the biggest pictures were of them holding their medals as they stood atop the Olympic podium.

Yuzuru mumbled something about getting his skates at home, but he found a pair of skates for the both of them anyway. Michael watched as Yuzuru took to the ice, arms stretched, looking the happiest Michael had seen him in a while. But then again, this is the rink in Sendai, the place where it all started for _the_ Yuzuru Hanyu. This was the place where he stepped on the ice for the first time, where he got bruises and injuries from fall after fall for attempting a jump, where he went whenever the world became too much.

He didn’t realize he was still leaning by the boards, transfixed, until Yuzuru approached him, amused. “What are you still standing around for?” he asked, holding his hand out. “Let’s skate.”

Michael smiled and took his hand, letting himself be taken away.

They took a couple of laps around the rink, Yuzuru pointing at certain areas, telling a story from long ago. That rooftop fully collapsed during the earthquake and couldn’t be taken away until a week later. Those stands where he watched Shizuka perform after winning the gold medal in Torino, and he decided he wanted more out of the sport. That area in the rink was where he landed his first triple axel. Memories and memories, and Michael was glad he got to know Yuzuru more.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Yuzuru asked, as he took Michael’s other hand.

How could he forget? Michael smiled. “In Osaka, on our first day of practice,” he replied, letting Yuzuru pull him wherever he wanted. “I said I liked your short program, you said you liked my Biellmann. I applauded myself because I managed to form words around you.”

Yuzuru’s hands circled around Michael’s waist, as if ready to dance. Michael would have pointed out how cheesy this looked, if he weren’t so breathless. “I thought you were cute,” he said with a sheepish chuckle. “And I admired how you worked so hard to be where you are.”

Michael wrapped his arms around Yuzuru’s neck, the older one pulling him close. They weren’t moving now, just standing at the center of the rink. “I liked how you made me feel like I’m somebody important,” he admitted, “and not just some random kid from a third world country.”

Yuzuru smiled, and it wasn’t the lighthearted smile Michael had seen all day. This was more … serious? Like there was this deeper meaning to this situation than just walking on memory lane. The smile made him weak in the knees, and Michael was thankful he was clinging to Yuzuru. “I love how you ground me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “When everything got crazy, you were always there to keep me sane.”

Warmth spread across his chest, and his cheeks hurt at those words. He already felt what it was like to be important to a country who rarely paid attention to something he loved doing, but this was new—to be important to someone. “I’ll still be here,” he said, “when everything gets crazy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too.”

Michael didn’t know how long they stayed like that, arms around each other. Nothing mattered except for that moment, when they promised something that Michael knew was beyond the confession they made to each other a couple of weeks ago. Some words were still difficult to utter, but that could change in time.

Michael was sure of that.

The next day, and the day after that, came too soon. Michael wished he and Yuzuru had more time to explore the rest of Sendai, to spend more time in the bus ride home. But now, they were in Narita, Yuzuru refusing to let his hand go as they strolled to the departure area.

“I can cram you in my luggage, you know,” Michael joked as they took a seat by the benches. They still had a few minutes left before he can check in, and every time with Yuzuru was important.

Yuzuru laughed, leaning his head on Michael’s shoulder. “Half-tempted, but I can’t,” he groaned.

“How about you come with me to the Philippines one time? It’s hot and traffic is terrible, but there are some great places I can show you.”

Yuzuru hummed in agreement. “That sounds great. Maybe after the Cricket Club reunion …”

Michael looked at the airport clock—five more minutes, and he could see the airline booth starting to open. He sighed heavily. It was going to be a long month, that’s for sure. “It’s not like I’m not coming back in May,” he said.

“I know. But I’ll still miss you.”

“Me, too.”

“Keep Skype and LINE open, will you?”

“Said the guy who cut all forms of communication after Pyeongchang,” Michael pointed out, laughing when Yuzuru pouted at him. “Yeah, I will.” He watched as the clock ticked to 10:00a.m., and the line at the airport booth started to form. “I have to go.”

“Okay.” Yuzuru reluctantly peeled himself away from Michael as they stood up. He stretched his arms out, and Michael readily wrapped his arms around the older one. “See you.”

Michael tried to quash the lump in his throat, but he failed. “See you,” he choked out, leaning forward to let their lips meet before he pulled away to wave and walk away.

Until another month, Michael couldn’t wait.


	11. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_ **

It was the last month of spring in Sapporo, yet Michael shivered as he strolled to the Makomanai Ice Arena, clutching his jacket closer. He heard someone call his name, and he spun around to find two wide-eyed girls approaching him. They spoke in rapid Japanese that he couldn’t understand, but they hold out the program books, and he got the gist. He smiled as he tried to chat with them with the Japanese that he knew before bidding the girls goodbye.

The rink was a flurry of activity by the time he arrived. Zijun was the first to greet him, hugging him and showing a goofy selfie she and Han just took. Sota patted him on the back as he arrived in the dressing room, brushing off the stuff on top of what was supposed to be his area. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Keiji-senpai likes putting his stuff on other people’s places.”

He already knew that, so he merely shrugged and placed his bag on the chair.

As if on cue, Keiji slammed the door open, looking like he had just run a mile. “Guys, he’s here!” he yelled. “Is Michael here because we gotta dra—Oh.” He gulped when Michael waved at his direction, and from his peripheral vision, Michael could see Shoma giving Keiji a death glare while Chris was making a throat-cutting gesture. “Michael!” he squeaked. “Hi! Long trip?”

“Yeah, but I’m good,” Michael said. “Who else just arrived?”

“U-Uh!” Keiji pulled his collar as if to aid him to breathe. “Well—um—”

“Well!” Shoma spoke up, glaring at Keiji before grinning at him as if the whole room shared a secret he was just about to discover. “Why don’t you get changed first before we go to the rink? It’s almost rehearsal time!”

Michael wanted to pry the information out of everyone, but he knew Keiji had already landed them in hot water. If it was a surprise he was going to get, he might as well play along, so he shrugged and got dressed for rehearsals.

The lights were already dim by the time he arrived in the rink. He could see Zijun and Han, and the rest of the skaters, sitting by the stands, chatting excitedly. Sota was bouncing as he dragged Michael to the front and center seat, more excited for the surprise than Michael was.

When the spotlight shone on the center of the rink, towards the person ready to skate, he understood the excitement.

“Surprise!” Sota whispered as the first few notes of _Unchanging Things_ started to play, and Yuzuru started to glide on the ice. “Arakawa-shachou got him to agree only just yesterday!”

“Yesterday, huh …” Yesterday, he and Yuzuru were in a Skype video call at two in the morning, just before his Busan-Sapporo flight, back to Japan after a month in Manila. There were dark circles under Yuzuru’s eyes—he was substituting on a night shift for a co-intern. Yuzuru already knew of his ice show in Sapporo, and regretted he wouldn’t be able to come because of school.

“I’ll try to make it in your next show,” Yuzuru had said.

“Don’t force it,” Michael had told him. “You have school. I’m heading to Tokyo after the shows anyway. For coaching stuff.”

“Yeah.” Yuzuru’s eyes had disappeared into crinkles. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me, too.”

Who would have known Yuzuru would be here? They had only been apart for a month, yet that one month felt so long. He had said time and again that he missed Yuzuru, and as he watched Yuzuru move across the ice like some ethereal being, more wraith-like than his performance in Jingu Gaien, the realization hit him harder.

It took all of his willpower not to jump off the boards and to the rink after Yuzuru’s performance, which was met by applause from the skaters and the staff alike. Suddenly, Sota started yelling something he couldn’t understand, but whatever it was, Yuzuru turned to his direction. Their gazes met, and Michael’s heart stopped, as always.

Yuzuru skated to their side of the rink, and Michael met him halfway, with the boards the only thing separating them. He was still trying to catch his breath after his skate, but his eyes disappeared in crinkles as he managed a “Hi.”

Cheers were erupting from behind him, but Michael couldn’t seem to care as he put his hands on top of Yuzuru’s and leaned closer. “Hi,” he said, as breathlessly as Yuzuru’s, as their lips met.

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> \- So, hi, it’s been a while since I wrote a Mizuru fic, and wow, how did it get this long? (That was rhetorical. I don’t know either.)  
> \- This had been a five/six-month work in progress, and I’d like to thank @foldedpapertowels (who gave me the prompt and told me the fic doesn’t have to be long but lol look what happened) and @caramiro (my ever reliable beta) for holding my hand and spamming my GDoc with comments.  
> \- The title of the fic is from the song Always Coming Back to You by ONE OK ROCK.  
> \- Yuzuru’s exhibition program for this fic is Kawaranai Mono/Unchanging Things by Hanako Oku from the 2006 film The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.


End file.
